Page 20 of Cruel Tides (Queen of Tridents #2)
20
Kai
M y finger slid across the parchment coating the wall. Although I’d already gone over every word posted in the pool room, I kept wandering back to this particular spot. The tight mash of pictures and letters reminded me of the glyphs back home, the ones carved in the secret tunnels below the palace. Well, they weren’t totally secret, but considering the entrance sat underneath the stables my father used to maintain his prized fever of stingrays, the threat of a slow, tortured death by venom injection kept the place pretty empty.
My mother just referred to them as “the ruins,” describing them as a site left behind by the scribes of ages past as a record of the Pacific’s rich history—a project they seemed to have abandoned somewhere down the line, even before the stingrays came along.
Still, my father always tasked his lesser-valued offspring with scraping the algae blooms from its walls each spring, though I had a suspicion he just used it to get us out from under his tail for a season. As the youngest, arguably least important of all the princes, I was usually the first he sent down.
Spring always felt a bit lonely, but at least I got in a lot of reading!
“Serena’s Pest Control Services,” I carefully read aloud, following the curls of each letter with a finger. I loved the glyphs on this parchment the most. An illustration of brilliant flames crawled up the sides of the lettering, a motif that was never depicted on the walls of the ruins back home. For whatever reason, fire wasn’t as popular underwater as it was on land. A shame, really, considering how toasty warm the fire pits on the beaches back in California had been. And the fried shrimp it made. My mouth watered just remembering those little golden-brown morsels!
“What’s that?” A slow, sweet voice answered my mumbling, drawing my attention away from the parchment. Claira swayed back into the pool room, a curious slope to her lips.
I fought back a grin. The towel sitting just over her brows was wrapped up like a spiral seashell, giving off the illusion that a hilariously oversized hermit crab was nesting on top of her head. Just when I thought I’d tamed my amusement, I noticed the shark on her shirt and could barely stop myself from leaping up on my toes.
I was hoping she’d choose the shark!
Claira plucked at the dark pants I’d picked out for her, smoothing the fabric down her thighs. The fit was perfection , almost like the fabric had molded to her shape. I felt a rush of relief—I wouldn’t need to offer her mine after all.
“Just looking at some of the parchment hanging up over here. You know you didn’t have to hurry for my sake, right?” I watched the backpack slide off her shoulder and touch down beside a lounge chair. It looked somewhat deflated, as if she hadn’t bothered stuffing her old clothes in it after she’d changed. Not that I blamed her. It was appalling that the Atlantic expected her to keep walking around covered in dirt and dried blood. “I’ll tell you one of my secrets: it doesn’t take much to keep me entertained. Give me a pebble or a shell or maybe something to chew on, and I’m good for a few hours!”
The lounger barely bowed as Claira took a seat at its end. “After what I saw back at the gas station, I don’t doubt that,” she said with a chuckle. It was a soft, somehow charming sound, unlike anything I’d ever heard from the mermaids back home. A part of me wondered what else I could say to hear more of it, which was an odd thing to wonder, right? Suddenly uncomfortable, I shifted my weight.
Pulling the spiral down from her head, she started rubbing down sections of hair. “There wasn’t any hot water, so yeah. Kind of had to keep things brief.” A few more quick pats, and she flung the towel down with a satisfied sigh. “I thought I’d find you splashing around in the pool or something, not standing in front of a bulletin board. Find anything interesting?”
Her arms lifted in a long stretch as she reclined, her body sprawling over the length of the lounge chair in a manner that reminded me of the lazy way sea lions spread over rocks in the sun. “But don’t get too excited about any of that. I’m pretty sure the people who posted those ads are long gone by now,” she added, rolling a dismissive wrist.
I glanced back at the wall, and my eyes instantly locked on to the red and orange fire. “Just this one page I keep reading. ‘Pesky pests invading your home? We’ll bring the firepower needed to get the job done!’” I read each word, then drew a thumb over one of the flames. “Sounds really cool, right? Humans have so many uses for fire.”
“Oh, they don’t mean real fire.” Claira’s laughter nearly bubbled over as she sat back up, shaking her head wildly. “No, no. They just mean they have the right tools and know how to use them.” She absently combed her fingers through tangles of damp hair, looking amused by the thought. “Fire for pest control, ha! I guess that’s one way to take care of termites.”
It was incredible to see how much a simple bath had changed her entire mood.
“They don’t? Well, that’s disappointing.” Abandoning the wall, I made my way over to her backpack. As I crouched to unzip its front pocket, a sweet scent hit me, too mouth-wateringly delicious to ignore. “Wow Claira, you smell fantastic .”
“What?” A rush of red livened her complexion. Wetting her lips, she swallowed hard. “You literally just gave me a bag full of soap and shampoo.”
“Yeah, I know, but…” I leaned in just close enough to pick up the scent again. “I’m sure it didn’t smell this good in the bottle. You think I could borrow some for my bath tonight?”
“Pfft, you’re the one who gave it to me!” Shying away, she collected a section of hair to sneak a covert whiff. “If you want to smell like lemon juice and tea leaves, go for it.”
“Lemon!” I gasped, diving into the backpack to find the shampoo bottle. “So that’s why you’re making me feel so hungry. I had lemon-scented candy things earlier, but Barren snatched them away before I could try them.” My voice trailed and the vacant pit of my stomach took over with an audible grumble.
“He snatched them? What, he didn’t want to share with you or something?”
The image of what I figured was a lemon tempted me, right there on the label. So shiny. So yellow. Ugh, I was hungry. Too bad bath time wasn’t until tonight. Pushing the bottle aside, I dove for the bottom of the bag. “Nope. He tossed them right in the trash! Did you move the hair binds and comb somewhere? I can’t—oh, here we go.”
I found the binds first and ripped a few of the stretchy circles straight from the package. Sliding four of them on my wrist, I went back for the comb.
When I sprung up to full height, Claira’s voice turned uneasy. “What are you doing?”
Properly armed, I rounded the lounge chair and settled down on the edge behind her. “Helping you get rid of some of these knots. Don’t worry.” I eased the comb through some of the damp ends. “I used to do all sorts of hairstyles for my little sis all the time.”
She tossed me a backward glance, and I backed off just in case she wasn’t comfortable with my offer.
“You do hair? Wow. I’m terrible with hair.” She twirled a finger around an errant strand for a second, then straightened her neck. “Well, good luck. My hair had a fight with a burlap sack earlier, and the sack definitely won, so… I think even my tangles have tangles.”
I set the comb back to work with a chuckle. “Believe me, Freechia’s hair was way worse. I love her to bits, but the kid insisted she was a sea lion for a good ten years! And the hardest part wasn’t even the brushing and the styling, but the catching . Man, she was as fast and slippery as any sea lion pup. Sometimes I wondered if she knew something about herself that the rest of us didn’t.” One of the comb teeth caught on a particularly stubborn knot, and we both hissed in a breath. “Sorry. I’m trying to be gentle.”
She rubbed a circle over the back of her scalp. “No, no, it’s fine. I guess that’s why they say not to brush hair when it’s wet.”
“What? Who says that?” I fluffed the bottom of her fiery hair with the back of the comb. Wet or dry, the thick strands looked tough enough to survive being drawn through a jaw full of shark teeth with minimal damage.
Nose scrunched, she lifted her chin to shoot me a glance. “You know… people .”
“But you’re a mermaid? Your hair is supposed to be wet, pretty much always. Dude, could you imagine if mermaids stopped brushing their hair?” Just thinking about it made me want to laugh. “My mother would turn into a sea monster! Her hair is already this dark algae-green color, and she hates it. Could be worse though, right? I mean, look at my hair. Anyway, she combs it down into a smooth, solid wave at least fifty times a day and still has a complex. I’m afraid to even look at it half the time.”
When I finished my rambling, I noticed the muscles in her shoulders had bunched up tighter than the knots in her hair.
“I don’t actually think of myself as a mermaid.”
“What?” My hand stopped the comb mid-slide. “Why not?”
Claira took a long, shaky breath. “I don’t know. Maybe because I’ve lived on land for over ten years? You’ve already heard I can’t swim.” She paused, hunching her shoulders further. “I haven’t considered myself a mermaid for a long time. My birth father will tell you I never was much of one, if you ask him. But since everyone else keeps insisting my broken tail is some sort of gift to merfolk kind, I guess that makes me an ex-mermaid, maybe? I might never truly be human, but I know I won’t ever go back to living underwater.”
“An ex-mermaid, huh? Well, there are a lot of cool things on land. I wouldn’t mind staying up here, either.” I smoothed out the last few knots and pulled her hair into a high moraytail. Her hair was so heavy it took all four binds to secure it, but when I finished, it looked nearly perfect.
I gave my thighs a quick slap and stood up. “Now that you’re all scrubbed and polished, how about some food? I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
“No joke, your stomach’s growling so loud you were vibrating the whole chair. I was getting nervous you might try to take a bite of my hair.” She gave her moraytail a few swishes, letting her hair whip from side to side. “Thanks for this, by the way. I never wear it up. Feels cool, like I’m getting ready for a fight or something.”
She whipped around suddenly, delivering a mock punch to the side of my leg. In the spirit of our pretend fight from earlier, I groaned dramatically and started limping away, heading for the food I’d brought along with us. By the time I lifted the brown bags, drool was running down my chin. I wasted no time getting back to the lounge chair, plopping right down beside her to unpack.
“We didn’t know what kinds of food you like, so you’ve got a lot here to choose from.” I pulled out half a dozen paper containers and lined them in a long row. When I popped the first top open, she gasped.
“Holy—where did you get all of this? Is it fresh? I thought the town was deserted.”
I opened every container except the last, just in time to see her eyes widen in wonder, bigger than moons. “We’re staying at a hotel a few minutes outside this territory in Brightleaf. There’s this eatery connected to the side of it, and since Barren’s family owns the entire building, they let him cook up some food in the back of the kitchen.”
“His family owns it? What would Indian Ocean royalty want with a random hotel in—Did you say Brightleaf? Those damn harpies drove me all the way to Brightleaf?” She fell into a daze that I had to wave a hand in front of her face to break.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize they’d taken me so far from home.” She lowered her lashes, looking suddenly sullen. “The food looks really good, though. You said Barren made all of it? Wow.”
I pointed to each container down the line as I spoke. “Well, most of it. He made the French dip, roasted vegetables, seaweed salad, fried catfish, and these delicious little bread rolls I think he called hushguppies. You know, all the hard stuff.” I broke into a long sigh. “He’s like the complete package, you know? No wonder Laverne likes him so much.”
“I’m sure she’s still your girl, Kai. When he breaks her heart, you can swoop in and get your chance.”
That little smirk of hers told me she was joking, but I still prodded her with an elbow. “Har har, very funny. I just don’t want to see her hurting again. She’s like a sister to me.”
Digging back into the bag, I pulled out two of the comb-like tools Barren had tossed in the bag like an afterthought. I held them up to examine. “I almost forgot he packed these. What do they call these things?”
“Forks? They’re like little tridents used for spearing food instead of entrails. Oh, and they’re not magical. Actually, maybe they’re nothing like tridents.” Claira snatched one right out of my hand and leaned over the food like she wasn’t sure which dish to attack first. “You said Barren made most of these, so that last one over there is…?”
An odd lump formed in my throat. I scratched at the back of my neck, wondering if I should even show her what I’d made. Now that I was seeing how delicious Barren’s food looked, there was no way she’d want to try mine. “Yeah, uh, I was feeling bored while Barren was chopping up everything. He didn’t really seem like he was in a talkative mood, so I hung out with one of the chefs. He was such a cool guy; he let me use the stove.”
Remembering how enthusiastic Drew had been while teaching me, I opened up the lid with renewed confidence. Even if it wasn’t fancy, I’d worked hard on it. Drew even high-fived me after. I cleared my throat. “My friend Drew cracked open the first egg, but I did the other three. Did you know birds lay eggs just like fish do? He showed me how to cook them, and then he even let me decorate the top.”
The little red lines of Claira’s hair had run together a bit, but her dot eyes and half-moon smile still looked just as good as when I drew them.
“Is that…?” she asked flatly, her tone unreadable.
I rubbed at the back of my neck some more. “Yeah.”
“ Pfft .” She cracked up, reaching for the container with the end of her fork. “Well, slide it over! Let’s see how I taste.”
I passed it to her, and she didn’t hesitate to scoop up a bite. Then another. “Wow, I think you’re already a better cook than I am.”
As I watched her, something in my chest felt heavy… and also light. It was adorable how she was eating around the red lines. Like she didn’t want to ruin the design I’d made for her.
Turning back to the food, I decided on a hushguppy first. So good.
Well, now was as good a time as any. “You know you don’t have to stay here, right?”
“Hmm?” she mumbled through a mouthful of bird eggs.
“With the Atlantic. They can’t hold you here if you want to go back home. I know we promised we wouldn’t take you through the gates, but you can leave on your own. If anyone tried to stop you, I’d—”
“I get what you’re saying, and thank you for that.” Her mouth opened and closed half a dozen times, like she was searching for the right words to say. “I know it sounds crazy, but I think I need to stick around. Just until King Eamon gets his trident. I think then I can finally move forward and put all this craziness behind me for good, you know?”
Resting her fork on the corner of the container, she leaned back to look up at the ceiling. Was she frowning?
“Thank you for worrying about me, though. You’re so sweet, doing all these things for me when we hardly even know each other.”
A cold sweat broke out over my back, my palms, even my upper lip. Her voice overtook my senses like she’d sung an incantation. Each syllable was so weighted with magic that the air nearly shimmered with it.
The echo of her words swam around me, swirling and tightening like a warm embrace.
It was the first time a mermaid had ever directed a seduction glamour at me. One of my older brothers, sure, but me?
“Are you okay? Your face just turned kind of pale.” It all disappeared, evaporating like smoke and leaving me sticky with sweat as her voice returned to its natural tone and pitch. Had she meant to do it? Did she even realize?
“I—I, uh…” My tongue failed me for the first time since birth. Unable to gather a coherent thought, I did the only thing I could do without thinking. I shoved a handful of hushguppies into my mouth and chewed.