I scowled, diving beneath the waves again. I nearly slammed into a large, dark shape that seemed determined to block my path. I swam neatly under it instead, muttering as I barreled forward. I was determined to ignore everything else around me.
I wanted to be alone. I was supposed to be gathering food or practicing for the Trials with my limited free time between shifts. Instead, I wanted to go off and lick my wounds.
It’s not fair!
I didn’t have so much as a helmet to protect me in the Trials. No matter how many oysters I sold, I’d never have enough to buy proper armor.
The worst part was that Thalia had no interest in actually winning. It was all a big joke to her, something frivolous to entertain her and raise her status. Not a lifelong goal. She was using the Trials as a fashion show, hoping to catch the eye of the Prince.
I knew because she’d told everyone within earshot that little tidbit. Being wealthy and spoiled wasn’t enough for her. She wasn’t satisfied with all the privileges she had. She was lucky to have a loving mother and a full belly, never mind a soft bed and a roof over her head.
Oh, no, not her. She wanted to be a Royal on top of everything else.
I wouldn’t even have taken issue with it if she hadn’t been such a miserable, vicious Mer!
The irony was, she really did look lovely in her armor. I had no doubt that she would catch the eye of anyone she pleased. My sister was heartless and self-centered, yes, but if she wanted to hide it from you, you would never know.
The truth was, she looked like what the two-leggers called an angail, even though she was anything but.
On the surface, she was nearly perfect. Beautiful, with long, silky blonde hair that did what it was supposed to (unlike my wild red curls), clear blue eyes (not dark green like mine), and flawless skin (I was born covered with freckles). She could carry a tune and make polite conversation, and she was surprisingly intelligent when she bothered to take an interest in anything other than her wardrobe, which was rare. She even had a bit of magic, something I was woefully lacking in.
In fact, if she weren’t so awful, she might have been quite wonderful. I’d cared for her once. Loved her desperately, even.
We’d been two lonely little girls in the same house, a palace that was stiff and formal. We should have been friends, if not truly sisters. And she’d been sweet as a child, the few times I’d been allowed to play with her. But all of my lame attempts at sisterly affection over the years had been rejected, to put it mildly. I told myself that I had accepted that she was pure evil and moved on.
But as usual, she got to me anyway.
I swam faster, wishing I had sponge in my ears so I wouldn’t have to listen to her. I hoped they’d give up and find someone else to torment. I knew I wasn’t their only victim. Any young Mer who got in their way was fair game.
Finally, I was far enough that I couldn’t hear even one tiny shrill giggle from them.
I sighed deeply in relief. It didn’t slow me down though. I wanted to get as far as I could from her. I didn’t belong here, and I couldn’t wait to escape, once and for all. I was nearly of age, so it wouldn’t be long.
Maybe I’d even go as far as another ocean.
I might even settle for a lake, if it was big enough.
I thought for a minute then rejected that idea. No lake was big enough. I loved to swim long-distance too much. It was the one thing I was good at. I was a bit of a show-off, truth be told.
Lake-dwelling Mers had to be much more careful about being spotted by the two-leggers. That didn’t sound like fun to me at all.
Another ocean, or even a sea, would be best, I decided. Maybe the Indyan Ocean. Or the Meditoraneanne. I could pack light and take the Straight of Gibraltar. That sounded nice.
Either way, I was getting out.
Someday, I wouldn’t be the poor girl who lived on the fringes. I wouldn’t have to rely on someone else’s charity. I’d be somewhere else entirely.
Someone else.
I kicked my fins harder, determined to outswim the tears that were forming in my eyes.
My speed didn’t stop the dark shape from pursuing me. Most Mers would be afraid if they saw what it was. I just rolled my eyes as the thick gray behemoth slammed into my side.
It was a shark. My shark.
Or rather, I belonged to him. Most Mers had an animal familiar. Sadly, we did not get to choose them.
They chose us.
Beazil was a fearsome creature. Or at least, he looked like a fearsome creature. He was a great white shark, nearly twenty feet in length, a terrifying predator that could tear his prey apart with one bite.
In reality, he was as friendly and docile as a seal.
I shook my head. Typhoon forbid he ever got into a real fight with a giant squid or something big enough to take him. He would probably try and make friends instead of defending himself, which could be disastrous.
I remembered when he was just a baby, tugging at my fins as I ran errands for my stepmother. He’d been a pest then and he was a pest now.
Pest or not, I loved the silly thing. He was the only family I had left. I had friends, sure. Not many, and not what you would call best friends, other than Lila, but I had them.
But family? Someone who loved me above anyone else? Someone who would bend over backward to help me and vice versa? It was just the big guy with the teeth.
I sighed, slowing my pace so he didn’t have to keep up. I was an unusually fast swimmer, like my father had been. He’d been a Royal Messenger. That was how we got into this mess to begin with.
As a Messenger, he was considered to be quite a catch, so he’d been single for about two swells after being widowed after my mother’s death.
He’d landed in another Mer’s lap within the year and married shortly after that. I’d been moved into an enormous underwater palace and spoiled rotten. It wasn’t so bad at first, though I really did not like the stiff formal clothes I was expected to wear. I did enjoy the rich and plentiful food.
Until the unthinkable happened.
He’d barely been wed for half a year when he was sent on a dangerous journey to deal with a rebellious kingdom on the far side of the world. His new wife was carrying his babe when he’d disappeared. He’d been called away, never to return, which left me with a vain and callous stepmother who wanted nothing to do with me and the world’s most obnoxious and self-absorbed sister.
Half-sister!
I clenched my jaw in annoyance.
“Keep up, Beazil!”
Even after I’d slowed my breakneck pace, Beazil was lagging behind me. My shark was not all that fast, at least not for his size. Beazil was not just unexpectedly friendly for his species, but he was also unaccountably lazy.
I’d heard that sharks never stopped moving. They had to swim or they would die. Well, Beazil did stop. Quite often, in fact. I assumed he had magical qualities that allowed for this, because I certainly hadn’t put a spell on him. I couldn’t.
He was overly fond of naps as well.
And belly rubs. They were his third favorite thing, after naps and eating, though I supposed that the eating was at least in character for a shark. But Beazil preferred seaweed and shrimp to large prey. Too much screaming and gore for his sensitive nature.
Yeah, my shark was practically a vegetarian.
“Come on, you big baby.”
He looked at me inquisitively, his eyes sharp with intelligence. Beazil was lazy, sure, but he was no dummy. Sometimes, I thought that being smart was part of the reason he was so lazy.
“We’re going to the cave.”
Beazil seemed to smile, swimming faster. He loved our secret cave as much as I did. There were delicious seaweed varieties along the coast, and the cave featured a wide shelf not far below the surface that was perfect for napping. And since the smaller fish that lived close to shore were unfamiliar with sharks, they practically swam into his mouth.
But that’s not why I wanted to go. I needed to practice and I didn’t want anyone watching. I didn’t want anyone to know I was practicing skills or that I was actually getting pretty good with a spear.