They stopped at the edge of the fresh layer of lava, black and bubbling between us.
Ben emerged from the crowd as the whirr of the second helicopter closed in overhead. I tensed, ready to dive, but it landed on the bank. An entire team waited in the open door, armed and wearing protective vests.
Two men leapt out as the rotor slowed. They ran towards us, hopping clumsily over logs and rocks on their way down the beach. One was dressed sharply in a suit; the other, a mustached man, in military uniform.
They had their eyes on the massive leviathan, lying motionless behind me, streams of cooling lava everywhere. Then the mustached man saw me.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done, demon?” he shouted. He strode towards me, but Ben lunged into his path and grabbed him.
Several of my people stepped forwards, putting another barrier between me and the men.
Everyone I loved—everything I loved about the island—was there. My parents, Annith, Tanuu, Blacktail, Fern, Blondie, and Anyo stood nearest me. They looked back at me, and I held each of their gazes in turn, trying to convey all the love and gratitude swelling in my chest. They were forever my allies, in battle and in life, and that meant more to me than they would ever know. Behind them were my classmates, teachers, neighbours—everyone I’d grown up with and fought for on the Massacre. They faced the men from the helicopter with their chins high.
“If you are any indication of what the serpent’s presence will do to our world, then we are better off without it,” said my father.
“You declare war on merpeople, you declare war on all of us,” said Anyo.
The suited man raised his hands. “I don’t intend to declare war on anyone, here.”
His tone was calm, drawling, his accent distinctly American.
“Then stay away from my daughter,” said my father. The men regarded him with open shock. “She was born and raised on this island. Don’t tell me her life is worth less than a human’s.”
Ben and the mustached man looked into each other’s faces. Too many emotions flew around for me to catch what passed between them.
“Officer Miller here tells me that this mermaid—I mean, your daughter—said the merman king is dead,” said the suited man. “With him gone, and now the serpent, we’d like to know what this means for the American peop—”
He faltered, attention caught by something out in the waves. The crowd turned to see Lysi surface with two other mermaids. I was so overcome with relief that it took me a moment to see that the mermaid between her and Dione was wearing a crown.
Lysi had done it. She’d found Queen Evagore. Most importantly, she was safe.
Queen Medusa stretched taller, like these new arrivals were the most interesting yet. She and Evagore locked eyes and gave slight nods of recognition.
“Gentlemen,” I said, gesturing, “I’d like to introduce Queen Medusa of the Atlantic, and Queen Evagore of the Pacific.”
The suited man glanced to each mermaid at the shoreline, and back to me, and then to the surf. His eyes moved rapidly, as if he was afraid to hold any of our gazes for long, lest we lure him.
“Right,” he said, smoothing his tie. “James York. I’m here on behalf of the United States Department of Homeland Security, and I’d like to know what the hell is going on. Are the American people in danger?”
“They are not, sir,” said Evagore. “I am here to offer humans free movement across the seas again.”
“Free movement? On what terms?”
“You agree not to destroy underwater cities.”
Next to Ben, Officer Miller drew himself up, as though ready to be outraged. But he seemed to find nothing to say as he considered her words.
“What about borders?” said James York.
“I do not wish to define borders or restrictions.”
“Then you guarantee not to attack,” he said.
“Of course,” said Evagore. “And if you are willing, we can negotiate a trade agreement that benefits us both.”
The two men stared. A wisp of triumph passed through both of them. They might as well have had dollar signs flashing in their eyes as they considered all the potential of deep-sea mining. After what Lysi had told me about Medusa’s trade agreements with humans and how rich and vibrant the Atlantic was, this sounded like a promising start to fixing the impoverished Pacific Kingdom.
James York straightened his coat. “Given our situation, I think we’re best to negotiate a ceasefire. Are you willing to meet with the White House about this, Your Highness?”
