In her steel, cement, and glass surface prison, with Finn gone with Henry, and Monty rubbing shoulders with the latest Who’s Who, it was just Iris and Checkers in the apartment all day and most of the night.
Well, Iris, Checkers, and all the dead bugs.
And as much as she adored the cat—and his innate ability to sense her tide-touched moods, coming to purr on her lap or make biscuits on her—he wasn’t someone she could talk to. Or, at least, expect a response from.
It wasn’t just the silence that unsettled her. It was the stillness. The ocean always moved. Even when she was alone, the current would tug at her, would whisper reminders that she belonged to something fast, real, and alive.
Here, the air didn’t speak. It just sat. Thick and quiet.
And there were only so many books she could read before her thoughts turned inward. Before she started wondering what would happen if she never managed to go back.
She was just about to make her way back inside the building when a loudcawsounded from above.
“Go away,” she grumbled at the seagull. She was not in the mood for her mother’s spies. “What do you want?” she snapped when he just kept squawking at her. Glancing up, she noticed a small box hanging from his beak. “A present?” She stood up and reached to take the package from the bird. “Thanks,” she called, but the bird was already flying off.
She wasn’t sure if she was excited or nervous. Coming from her mother, there was no way to tell if it would be something thoughtful or some sort of warning.
When she reached inside the box, though, it was Shelly’s swirly handwriting on the note:
I stole two of Mother’s shellphones. Give me a call. I need to hear everything.
Shellphones weren’t common in the ocean. The magic that created them was incredibly rare, so most mermaids accepted that only the very influential would be able to make calls to one another from across the ocean.
Even though her mother used shellphones almost daily, Iris had never been allowed to even touch them.
This particular shellphone was a giant pink conch shell.
Iris pulled it close, taking a long sniff of it, smelling salt and seaweed andhome. Tears pricked her eyes and it took her a long moment to blink them back before she finally pressed the phone to her ear.
“Hello? Shelly?”
“Iris!” Her sister’s voice shrieked in her ear, making Iris yank the shell away from her ear.
“You are going to be in so much trouble for this.”
“Only if I get caught. Mother was just gifted a new shellphone from one of the sirens. It’s a worn snail shell. Very sleek. It’s hideous. Mother loves it, though. She won’t notice these two are missing. And now we can talk. So, spill. What is the city like? Have you met a vampire yet? Are they as beautiful as everyone claims? What’s your favorite food? Favorite place to visit? Tell me everything. I’m drowning in a sea of sameness. I’m living vicariously through you right now.”
Iris’s lips curved up even as her heart ached. She was so homesick it was hard to breathe. “I’ve seen vampires fromafar. And, yes, stunning. Hot pretzels are basically the best food ever invented. But pizza is a close second. Oh, and pasta. There are so many ways the humans have learned to make pasta. You have to come visit sometime and we will taste-test them all.”
“I’m worried Mother will never let me come. But maybe if we can put it under the guise of some sort of human wedding tradition. So, what have you been exploring?”
“Um, well, I really like the bookstore.”
“Thebookstore? You have this big, sprawling city full of untold marvels—both human and otherwise—and you’ve been spending your time in a stuffy old bookstore?”
Shelly had never understood her sister’s love of the written word. There was something oddly comforting about the fact that it hadn’t changed.
“Well, if it helps, the bookstore is run by a witch. She’s hilarious.”
“I’m not at all jealous,” Shelly said. There was a dramatic sigh on the other end of the shellphone. “So, tell me about Finn.”
“There’s not much to tell.”
“Oh, come on. You are living with him. A human. A humanman.”
“I think you’re imagining it to be a lot more interesting than it is.”
“Oh, come on. You have to tell me something. Does he have any strange habits?”
