“Do you want to hear the story or not?” asked Rinka.
“I do!” said Em. “We don’t know what Arkish Deer is though.”
“Arcas Dyrne,” said Rinka. “It’s the biggest city in Loegria.” She paused, and seeing no recognition, added: “The big island to the south of here.”
“Oh, the dragon island! You’re from the dragon island? Can you fly?” asked Em.
Rinka laughed. “No, I can’t fly. Only the king can fly, and his family, I guess.”
“Have you met them?” asked Em.
“The royal family? No,” said Rinka. “I can’t say that I have.”
“We know the king of the ocean. And his husband too,” said Cordy. “They’re really nice.”
Rinka was previously unaware that the ocean had a king, but she nodded politely and didn’t admit it.
“So Arcas Dyrne was built by the dwarves first. They built it underground, a great city beneath the surface. But when they allied with the elves, they allowed the elves to build upwards, and when the dwarves created the manufactories, the humans and orcs moved in too. And even some of the smaller folk, fairies and hobgoblins and pixies, left their homes to come live where the action is. So Arcas Dyrne is for everyone, all kinds of people living together.”
“It’s like that where we live too, only everyone we know can breathe underwater,” said Em.
“It sounds really great,” said Cordy. “Why did you leave?”
“It is pretty great, but I’m not the only person that thinks so. So many people want to live there that it’s really expensive. I lived with my human friend named Alison in a tiny flat on the seventh floor of a building that needed a lot of work, and even then, we could barely afford it. And once she left, I couldn’t afford it at all. But she’s made a home for us in Wilderise—the land just over there. That’s where I’m going.”
“What’s the seventh floor?”
With Drystan’s help making models out of seawater, Rinka explained to the girls the concepts of floors, stairs, lifts, and a number of other ideas she had taken for granted but which seemed exotic and fascinating to the little mermaids.
Fascinating for a time, at least. By the time Rinka had finished explaining underground rail-wheelers to them, they had grown bored of Rinka’s admittedly shaky explanations of modern engineering.
“It’s your turn, Mister?”
“Drystan.”
“We’re almost there, Mister Drystan,” said Cordy. “Tell your story, quick.”
Rinka could see no change in the cliff-lined coast, but there was an area jutting deeper into the water near the horizon. The river must have been on the other side.
“Alright,” said Drystan. “I’ll tell you a story about the school where I worked—”
“No!” shouted Cordy.
“We hate school!” cried Em.
The girls had stopped kicking.
“You hate school?” asked Drystan. “I had no idea.”
He smirked. Rinka could see it—he had known he’d get this reaction. He was teasing them.
“Tell us a love story,” said Em. She looked between them, her big brown eyes flashing back and forth. “Are you two in love?”
Rinka looked wide-eyed at Drystan, who was also caught off guard by the question. “We’ve only just met,” she said.
“Oh. That’s too bad,” said Em. “Tell us a love story anyway,” she said to Drystan.
“All my love stories ended in heartbreak,” he said. He looked at Rinka.
