Just for Fins (11 page)

“Okay, guys,” I say to the guards. “Let's really go home this time. I'm exhausted, and I think I have a long night ahead of me.”

Chapter 12

A
s I swim into the palace alone—the guards stopped at the gate to give a report to their commander, and Peri headed home—the palace housekeeper, Margarite, greets me at the front door.

“Welcome, Princess,” she says, giving me a deep bow.

I want to roll my eyes at the unnecessary ceremony, but I don't have the energy. I just want to find Quince and sushi and then talk to Daddy about everything I've learned so I can sleep for at least ten hours.

“Hello, Margarite,” I say. “Is Quince waiting for me in the kitchen?”

Her dark brows pinch into a puzzled expression. “Master Quince? He is not in the palace.”

“What?” My heart thumps, and a jolt of adrenaline enters my bloodstream. Not even the calming effects of the sea can soften my reaction. “He should be here by now. He— Where is my father?”

“In his office, Princess,” she says, her eyes filled with sympathy. “I believe he is awaiting your arrival.”

I don't wait to hear the rest of whatever she's saying. I take off as fast as my kicks—and an extra push of current from my new power—can carry me, racing through the halls toward Daddy's office.

Quince left Seaview almost two full days ago. Even with his weak swimming skills, he should have gotten here sometime yesterday.

Images of everything that might have happened to him flash through my mind. Shark attack. Riptide. Ship propeller. Stronger-than-usual Gulf Stream current. He could have been swept all the way to Glacialis by now.

By the time I swim through Daddy's door, my vision is blurry and I'm sure my teary eyes are sparkling like flecks of gold. My breath comes in short, fast gasps.

“Lily,” Daddy says as I enter, “I've been—”

He freezes midsentence when he sees the look on my face.

“Quince,” I blurt. “He's supposed to be here. The first test. He's been swimming for two days. We have to go find him!”

Daddy darts quickly from behind his desk and wraps me in a tight hug. “Mangrove,” he calls out to his secretary, “call the chief of the guard. We need to send out a search party.”

“He should be here by now,” I sob against Daddy's chest. “What if he—what if—”

“Shh.” Daddy rubs a hand up and down my back. “I'm certain he is fine. He is a strong young man.”

“But he can't swim.” I pull back and give Daddy a pleading look. “I mean, just barely. He's been learning, but still, he only started a few—”

“We will find him,” Daddy says with such certainty that I want to believe him.

His assurance calms me enough to start thinking clearly. Daddy's right, Quince is strong. Between my directions and his compass watch, he had to stay on the right path. Besides, he wasn't alone.

“I sent two guards with him,” I say. “They would have protected him if anything came up.”

Daddy's face turns stony. Blank. “You sent guards?”

“Yes,” I explain. “I had more than enough to spare, and I wanted them to watch him. Just in case. Why, is that a problem?”

He hesitates, thinking, before shaking his head. “It's fine.” He turns, one arm still around my shoulders, and we start for the door. “Let's go find Quince.”

Mangrove returns from alerting the chief of the guard just as we reach the hall. “The search party awaits you at the palace entrance, your highness.”

“Thank you,” Daddy says as we swim by. “Please find Calliope Ebbsworth as well. She will need to be present when we return.”

I take off out of the palace faster than I've ever swum before. My exhaustion from a weekend of traveling dis­appears, and all I can think about is getting to Quince. And trying
not
to think about all the millions of awful things that might have happened.

My path is clear in my mind. I know Quince will have followed my directions, so I start them in reverse. As I swim northwest out of the city, my guards can barely keep up with me.

I hear them calling out to me.

“Princess!”

“Wait for us!”

“Don't swim out of sight.”

Daddy and his entourage are far behind.

I ignore them all.

Kicking harder, I sweep over the suburbs, leaving behind the outer edges of the city. The landscape fades into more natural shapes, those that haven't been molded by mer hands to form houses and restaurants and grocery stores. Here there are only sea creatures, marine plants, and the rock and sand that they inhabit.

In my rush to crest the hill that overlooks Thalassinia, I crash into the trio of bodies on the other side.

“Ooof!”

“Ow,” I say, grabbing my head. Something hard—like an elbow, maybe—has connected with my skull, and for a few seconds my vision is blocked by bright spots.

Then I hear it.

“Lily?”

Quince's voice is weak.

I squeeze my eyes shut a few times to clear the spots, and when I open them again I see Quince floating right in front of me.

“Quince!” I shout, diving against him and wrapping him in the tightest hug I think I've ever given. “Holy bananafish, I was so worried about you.”

His arms hug me back, but not as tight as usual. “I was a bit worried about me, too.”

He says it in his usual joking manner, but there is a tension in his tone that I've never heard before. I lean away, then—seeing the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes—I float back far enough to take all of him in.

Besides his tired-looking face, his whole body looks wrung out. His arms hang limp at his sides, his legs drooping below. His shoulders, usually broad and straight and strong enough to carry a blue whale on his back for a few miles, sag with a weariness I've never seen in Quince.

I swim forward and smack him in the shoulder. Hard.

“You promised!” I smack him again. “You said you would call for help if you were in trouble.”

When I go to smack him again, he grabs my wrist and pulls it to his chest. “Wasn't in trouble. Just . . . slow.”

“It's been two days,” I say, trying to keep the screeching panic out of my voice.
“Two days.”

“Has it?” His dark-blond brows pinch into a scowl. “Kinda lost track.”

I shake my head at him. Then, turning to the two guards I sent to protect him—cowering a few feet away, next to a giant sea fan—I say, “I told you to protect him. To help him.”

Phyllos raises his hands in surrender. “We tried, Princess. When we realized he had only made it halfway in a day, we revealed ourselves and offered to help.”

“He refused,” Triakis adds. “Said he had to do this on his own or it didn't count.”

“We're going to have a conversation about you sending babysitters after me,” Quince says. “Later, when I can feel my legs again.”

I scowl at him and then the guards, but I can't exactly blame them. Mostly because Quince is right. He has to do this test alone, without help, or he'll fail. And then we'll both suffer.

“Just tell me I'm close,” Quince says to me. “That'll give me the second wind to cross the finish line.”

“You are,” I answer quickly. “Not far at all.”

“Ah, I see you've found him,” Daddy says as he arrives on the scene.

“He's exhausted,” I tell Daddy, “but he's determined to finish.”

Daddy nods. “Then the least we can do is escort the lad the rest of the way.”

“Are you sure that won't break the rules?” I ask. “I don't want him to have gone to all this effort just to throw it away.”

“It's fine,” Daddy insists. “So long as no one pulls him home.”

I give Daddy a grateful smile before turning to Quince.

“Okay, let's finish this thing,” I say. “We'll swim at your pace and I'll be by your side the rest of the way.”

He smiles. Not quite the cocky, mischievous smile I've grown to know and love, but that guy is in there, under the exhaustion.

Quince tilts forward and reaches out, scooping his hands back in a wide arc to propel himself forward. I notice that his legs are barely moving, like he doesn't have the energy to add a kick to the stroke.

“How can I help?” I ask, desperate to do something more than just watch him scoop his way to Thalassinia.

“Tell me a story,” he says, his eyes drifting half shut. “Tell me about your weekend.”

Okay, I can do that.

“Let's see,” I say, trying to figure out the most interesting way to tell him about my very boring travels. For a human who hasn't visited those kingdoms, though, I suppose they're not so boring. I decide to skip the diplomatic mission parts and focus on the adventure.

“First we went to the kingdom of Trigonum. It's north of Thalassinia, and the Bermuda Triangle is in the eastern part of the kingdom.”

“Cool,” he says, his pace picking up a little bit. “Do wakemakers and other mer things go missing there too? Or is it just human planes and ships?”

“A bit of both,” I admit. “The vortex has been known to whip up some pretty dangerous whirlpools. I guess it's like the mer-world equivalent of tornado alley, only with whirlpools instead of twisters.”

Quince smiles, and that's all the encouragement I need to keep going.

“Because of the triangle, there are lots and lots of shipwrecks in Trigonum,” I tell him, and I feel like I'm telling a bedtime story. “Human-object salvage is one of their biggest industries. They export things like deck chairs and fine china and even trinkets like pocket watches and jewelry.”

“Pirate treasure?”

“Not as much as you'd think,” I reply. “But some, definitely. There's a rumor that they found a huge collection of Spanish gold coins last year, but a human salvage operation found it at almost the same time, so they can't recover the treasure.”

Quince nods, and we swim in silence for a few strokes. I'm glad that my guards and Daddy and his guards are keeping a fair distance. That makes it feel like Quince and I are swimming home alone.

“Tell me more,” he says. “Where else did you go?”

“Next I went to Antillenes, the Caribbean kingdom south of Acropora.” I close my eyes and picture the beautiful blue seas, the vibrant sea life, and the friendly people who make up one of the Western Atlantic's most southern kingdoms. “That kingdom is very laid-back, even by mer standards. They are extremely rich in rare sea flowers and they have a big mer tourism trade, so they are a wealthy kingdom.”

Quince doesn't respond, but he keeps swimming. So I keep talking.

“Their queen, Cypraea, is one of the most beautiful mermaids I have ever seen.” Every mermaid in all the seven seas is jealous of her beauty, and I'm no exception. “She has long golden-blond hair that flows almost to the tip of her tailfin. And her scales are gold and ivory.”

“Doesn't hold a candle to you,” Quince whispers.

“You haven't seen her yet,” I argue.

“Lily, don't—”

“Oh, look,” I shout when he starts to tell me not to put myself down—which I don't need a bond to tell me he was about to do. “We're almost to the city's edge.”

Quince's eyes open wide, and he smiles at the sight of Thalassinia's suburbs.

“Now you just have to make it to the palace in the center,” I say, cheering him on. I think back to three years of watching Coach Hill motivate the swim team. Sometimes he just cheers for them, sometimes he tells them they're losers who couldn't beat a Chihuahua doing a dog paddle—I never really understood that one—and sometimes he tries to motivate them with rewards. I've had more pizza dinners than I can count because the boys kicked it up a notch to best their times for the promise of free food. Maybe that technique will work on Quince.

“Let's race,” I say. “If you win, we can have seaghetti for dinner instead of sushi.”