The boat drew near, and a large hand appeared in front of me. It had soft skin, like my hands, but there was black hair growing on the arm above it. How hideous! Why did male and female humans both have soft hands? A man should have webbed hands and feet, and scales on his arms and face. My sister Moselle often wondered aloud how humans tell the males from the females, and the rest of us always nodded in agreement.
But now that I looked at a human male up close, he was obviously not female. He wore no clothing on his top half, and only baggy short trousers on his bottom half. That much seemed familiar: Mermen wear trousers and their chests are bare. But this human male’s chest and belly were hairy—not thick fur like a beaver’s, but it still creeped me out. I allowed him to grasp my arm and haul me up into the boat in one swift movement. He was strong, as a man should be, and his muscles were well defined. I tried not to notice this, but I couldn’t really help it.
I turned away and looked at the females. “Thank you,” I panted. Not until I noticed their garments did it occur to me to wonder what I was wearing. I glanced down and saw, with a tremendous sense of relief, that I wore not only my usual traditional wrap-top decorated with paua-shell chips, but also a short pair of merman trousers of the same seaweed-filament fabric.
Now that I was out of the water, wind blew on my skin and chilled me further. My clothing clung to my skin and strange bumps rose on my arms. As a siren I had never felt the cold, but I seemed to have lost that power along with my tail. “I’m freezing!” I said, and my chin quivered as I spoke.
“Here, take my towel.” A young female who wore her black hair in a long braid wrapped me in a thick cloth and pushed me into a seat in the back of the boat. “How did you get out in the middle of the bay all by yourself? Were you trying to swim across the lake?”
I shrugged and nodded. That seemed as good a reason as any.
“Don’t talk nonsense, Eddi,” said the other female, who appeared to be around my age. She looked at me with perceptive eyes and smiled. “You’re a siren, aren’t you? Or rather, you were. And now you’re human. How exciting!”
The younger girl’s mouth dropped open. “A siren? Like, a real mermaid?” Her bright eyes looked me up and down. “You’re right. She’s too gorgeous to be human.” She gave the young man a pointed look. “Like you, Mike.”
He stood looking down at us, feet braced as the boat rocked, arms crossed over his broad chest. “I am not too gorgeous to be human, Eddi. I am simply the handsomest human you’ve ever seen.” He flashed her a smile. “You enjoyed watching me waterski.”
Eddi blinked dreamy eyes. “You were rather amazing to watch.”
Human girls found this sort of man attractive? I had never been more thankful to not be human. But wait. I was human. Oh dear.
“My name is Beatrice. What’s yours?” the older girl asked as she sat sideways in the driver’s seat, still facing me.
“Kamoana.”
“What a pretty name!” She looked intrigued. “I’ve heard stories about merfolk taking human form, but I never in my life imagined I might meet one!”
When I coughed and sneezed (another new experience that startled me), Beatrice’s smooth brow wrinkled. “Here I am, waiting to hear your life story, while you might need to see a doctor. Sit down, you two.”
Eddi sat beside me, and the man, Mike, dropped into another seat as Beatrice started the boat moving. His chair spun around until he faced me, and I felt his stare like a concentrated beam of sunlight, burning and uncomfortable. Foam and spray dashed up on either side of the boat as it accelerated.
“You were coughing awfully hard. We thought you were drowning at first,” Eddi told me, shouting above the noise of engine, wind, and waves. “I’m Princess Edurne of Bilbao, but everyone calls me Eddi, so please do. Beatrice is my companion.”
“Companion?”
“A fancy name for a maid,” Beatrice called back over her shoulder. She must have excellent hearing, I thought.
“More like a big sister,” Eddi amended. “She tries to keep me out of trouble. So, will you ever tell us why you’re here? I mean, as a human?”
“Maybe,” I said, glancing from Eddi to Beatrice to the man. In truth, what little I could remember was fuzzy. But I did know one thing for certain: “I really need to see the resort director.”
“We can take you to her,” Beatrice said, then called back over her shoulder, “Your Highness, do you wish to be introduced to Kamoana?”
The man they called Mike had been observing me all this time, his elbows on his knees with those fleshy hands hanging down between. His eyes were the color of amber. Very pretty, I had to admit. He had thick, black eyelashes any girl would envy and thick, black brows no girl would want. His chin was dark, as if hair tried to grow there too. Even his legs were hairy. Were all human men that hairy? I tried to hide a shudder.
Mike smiled as if he knew what I was thinking. Or, more likely, he thought I liked the way he looked. He was certainly quite pleased with himself. “I’ll introduce myself,” he answered Beatrice, his gaze never leaving my face. “I am Prince Michael of Dorintosh, a fabulous kingdom on the other side of the world in the Far North. I’m enjoying the sunshine and heat here.”
“That’s nice.” I tried not to look at him again.
We roared across the lake so fast that I felt as if I might fly out of the boat at any second. Wind whipped at my hair until it wrapped around my face. I clutched at the towel around my shoulders and hoped to live through the next few minutes. Surely the director of Faraway Castle Resort would be able to contact Mother and get me back to where I belonged. Back into my proper shape. I could hardly look down for the horror of seeing those legs where my tail should be.
Princess Eddi leaned forward to ask, “Are you going to be human for good?”
My eyes widened. “I certainly hope not.”
“How did you get turned human?”
“I’m . . . not sure. Magic, of course, but I don’t remember why.”
“Or who,” Eddi added, nodding sagely. “You’ve lost your memory. I bet there is some man you need to find and fall in love with to break the spell. That’s how these things usually work.”
“A human man?” I must have sounded horrified, because Eddi laughed.
“You don’t like human men? What about Mike?” She waved a hand toward the man lounging on his seat, his limbs splayed out, his head tipped back. He now wore dark glasses over his eyes. Merfolk don’t have vision problems, so I wondered how I knew the device was called “glasses,” but it didn’t seem to matter just then. More important questions existed.
“I’m sure he is an excellent person,” I said. “But I don’t know him at all.”
He lifted the glasses and smiled at me, raising one brow. “We can solve that problem easily enough, Kamoana. Want me to come and sit beside you?”
I sat further into my corner. “No, thank you.”
Eddi looked at me as if I were crazy. Beatrice appeared to focus on driving the boat, but even from behind I thought she might be laughing. “Kamoana,” she called over her shoulder. “Will you need help walking?”
“I really don’t know,” I admitted. “I’ve never tried to do it before.”
Mike laughed at this and sat upright again.
“What is so funny about that?” I asked.
Instead of answering, he said, “You are a gorgeous woman, Kamoana. But then, all sirens are gorgeous.”
Eddi gazed at him in wonder. “Have you seen a siren, Prince Mike?”
“I have. She spoke to me.” One dark brow twitched again. “Even sirens find me irresistible. But a human-siren match could never work out. I let her down gently.”
Oh, gag me. If all humans were this inane, my time as a woman would be fraught with horror. I needed to find the director and get put back to normal, and fast!
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