Her gills might have vanished, but the instinct remained. The air felt too sharp in her lungs, too dry. Her skin itched under her new clothing, too warm in the places it clung, yet too bare in the places it didn’t.
Outside the windows, the streets pulsed with magic andmetal. Glamours flickered on paranormals and humans alike, just the barest shimmer giving them away.
There were no currents here, no bioluminescent coral towers. Just concrete and strangers who didn’t even look at the cars as they passed by. The noise had her shoulders creeping up near her ears. The rumble of car engines, the shrieks of sirens, honks of horns, and the occasional thump of music. She was so used to the quiet calm of the ocean, interrupted only by the occasional whale sound and the soft whooshing of the water.
Iris pressed her hand against the cool glass window, longing for home.
They quickly pulled up in front of a towering building. Though in this city, it seemed as if each of the buildings was in some sort of competition over which one got to be tallest.
There were humans and creatures everywhere, their shoulders brushing as they moved through the congested, noisy streets. There was a chorus of horns, conversation, sirens, and music that had Iris wincing as pressure built across her temples.
“We’ll be brunching at Four Stars with A-listers in no time,” Monty declared, waving a feather at a restaurant as they passed. “I do hope Drach and Violetta bring the twins …”
Iris had no idea who those people were, but Monty’s enthusiasm was starting to become contagious, despite her previous plans to hate everything about this city.
She wanted to stop and take it all in, but Maria was in a hurry to get her to a room once they reached their first destination—the limestone and glass hotel.
“I will wait out here if you need anything,” Maria said,insisting on standing in the hallway as Iris and Monty made their way into the room a few moments later.
“Oooh, this is nice,” Monty declared. “Those better not be down pillows,” he said, waving a wing toward the bed. “I mean, I’m not a fan of geese. They’re nasty little sky demons. I once got mugged for my sandwich. I’m still in therapy about it. If I wanted to be chased around and snapped at, I’d go visit my Aunt Cora again. Still, we can’t support any bird-plucking industry.” He gestured down at his own pristine feathers. “Well, what are you waiting for? You need to bathe. You still have seaweed in your hair, for Triton’s sake.”
“How do I turn on the water?” Iris asked.
With a long-suffering sigh, the pelican led her into the bathroom, turning on the tap, showing her how to adjust the temperature, demonstrating how soap and shampoo worked, then explaining she must dry herself with a towel afterward.
Iris ran the water while stripping out of her clothes.
As she slipped into the water, her legs fused, familiar magic stitching her back together. She let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding.
The moment her legs vanished, she nearly wept with relief. The tight, uncomfortable awareness of them had made her feel like someone else entirely, foreign and exposed. But as her tail curled beneath her as it always had, she felt some of the tension slipping away.
She lingered longer than she should, soaking in the quiet. The hum of the water pipes was no ocean song, but it was better than nothing.
She had to admit, there was something quite nice about the citrus soap and the sudsy shampoo. Her only regretwas having to drain the water and dry off, watching her beloved tail disappear, when Monty knocked at the door to remind her that this was real, that her time was up.
She combed her hair before opening the door to the other room and walking out to find Monty … wearing a crown. More precisely, her crown.
“Why, yes, I do look quite dashing,” he said, speaking to an invisible audience. “But that is no sur—oh …” He trailed off, seeing Iris.
“Having fun?” she asked. “That is a priceless family heirloom, you know.” She was a little surprised to find that Juna had packed it. They typically only wore their crowns for special occasions. “I feel like it might be too much for a meeting, though.”
“I operate under the belief that a crown isalwaysa good idea. But the decision is yours. Even if it is the wrong one.”
After some fiddling, the two of them figured out how the gown was supposed to go on, and she slipped into it. It felt a bit like wearing a jellyfish—soft, clingy, and probably going to sting her if she moved wrong.
Once dressed, Iris moved in front of the mirror on the back of the closet door.
She didn’t recognize the girl in the glass—hair sleek, eyes wary, mouth set in a line that didn’t belong to someone free.
“Do I look … human?”
“Not even remotely. But that is not a bad thing. Come here. Let me smell you.”
“Smell me?” she asked. But the bird was already making his way over, ducking his giant beak down and sniffing her.
“Good. Not a hint of seaweed. You smell … citrusy. Like a very expensive cocktail. Or a scented candle namedHigh Maintenance. Yes, I do believe you are presentable enough.”
“As always, your praise is truly humbling,” she quipped.
