I thought I understood Oliver, but I really didn’t—not until I found myself here against my will. Stuck in this world that he so badly wants to escape, I completely, viscerally see what’s at stake for him.
Maybe in his shoes, I would have been as desperate. Maybe I would have drawnhiminto the book too.
“I’ve got to find him,” I announce.
“Are you sure?” Kyrie asks. “There’s plenty of other fish in the sea.”
“But not like him,” I say. I look at the mermaids. “Thank you. For the hospitality, and the oxygen. But I have to get to the surface.”
Marina smirks. “Not like that,” she says. “You’re practically wearing undergarments.”
Why doeseveryonehere keep saying that?
Before I can protest, Kyrie and Ondine link their arms through mine and swim me deeper into the sea, toward the mouth of an underwater cave. I recognize the small rounded driftwood door in the rear, behind which is a collection of skeletons.
They pull me through a crevice I remember seeing in an illustration—except there’s no picture of what waits on the other side. The small cubby is filled with golden doubloons, jeweled goblets, and heaps of shining gems. “This… this is worth a fortune!” I gasp.
Marina nods. “When ships don’t make it around the Cape of Passing Tides, we collect what’s left behind.” She picks up a diamond tiara. “You just never know when the stuff is going to come in handy.”
Kyrie dives into a pile of gleaming coins, sending them spinning in slow motion in the water. She emerges a moment later, holding a swath of indigo velvet. “I think this one will bring out her eyes,” she says, shaking out a gown with lace at the neckline and sleeves. Golden embroidery crisscrosses the bodice. It’s prettier than anything I’ve ever seen.
Ondine unlaces the back of the gown as Kyrie helps me out of my clothes. I step into the puddle of billowing fabric. The mermaids pull it up around me and tie me in tight. They swim back, examining me.
“What?” I say. “Is it awful?”
“There’s something missing…” Marina muses. She reaches into a wooden chest beside her and pulls out a rope of pearls, fastening it around my neck. “There.Perfect.”
“You think?” I ask shyly, and in response, they reach for my arms again and swim me out of the watery cave, up to the surface. I find myself balanced on the same rock where I’d been sitting earlier, crying.
I look at my reflection in the water. I’m stunning. If a little damp.
The mermaids bob in the waves, the sleek caps of their hair glistening in the sunlight. “This time,” Marina says, “that guy will never let you out of his sight.”
That’s what I’m hoping. I want to go home, but I want Oliver to come with me. Which means we both owe each other an apology.
I look at each of the mermaids in turn. “I can’t thank you enough,” I say.
They all sigh, or maybe that’s just the sound of the ocean crashing against the rocks, because when I look back they’ve disappeared, and if not for the fact that I’m wearing a very pretty, very soggy gown, I would think I’ve imagined the whole thing.
***
I am halfway back to the castle when the ground beneath my feet starts rumbling. I look overhead, expecting a thunderstorm, but all I can see are the dangling bits and pieces of words. Suddenly, there is a cloud of rising dust and a distant whinny, and I can make out the figure of Oliver riding his horse at a breakneck pace in my direction.
When he sees me, he pulls back on the reins, and Socks rears, his front legs pawing at the air in front of him. Oliver dismounts and rushes toward me. Before I can even apologize, he grabs me and hugs me tight. “I’m so sorry,” he says. “I wasn’t thinking of how much you had to lose. Only of how much I had to gain.”
I hug him back. “I know. We’ll find a way to get me home. But you’re coming with me.”
Behind me, I hear sniffles.
“That”—Socks gulps—“is justsoromantic!”
Oliver clears his throat. “Socks? I think you know the way home?”
“That I do,” Socks says proudly.
“Good. Then why don’t you go there. Now.”
“Oh! You mean… Yup, right, third wheel. Got it.” Sheepishly, he bows his head and trots back along the path he rode in upon.
