Chapter 1
Mairin swam through the grand arch of her palatial home, brushing her fingers over the large staghorn coral at the top. She kept her movements slow and methodical so she wouldn’t attract the attention of the nearby triton guard.
From years of practice, she’d learned to control her powerful tail when sneaking out of the undersea palace. The same tail that marked her as royal made her easy for the guards to monitor. Cobalt-blue scales rimmed in gold extended from the tip of her fins, all the way up her tail, turning to a sea green along her torso toward her neck and ending with a smattering of scales around her green eyes.
She gave another soft tail flick that propelled her gently through the palace garden and over the moss roses which had never bloomed in her lifetime. She took a moment to circle around and look at the unremarkable, stubby plants. No need to watch me, guards. I’m simply inspecting the garden.
“Mairin, play with us,” called a young mermaid as a group of them cut in front of her, trying to catch dartfish.
“Maybe later.” She flicked her tail to give a boost to a mermaid falling behind.
“Thank you, Princess,” said the little one as she wiggled by.
Mairin continued on, glancing back at the undersea palace where the strict queen lived—for she was queen first, mother second. The palace was built into an ancient coral reef at the heart of the kingdom. Mussel shells that opened and closed with the tide covered the roof. Coral columns adorned with sea glass and shells of white and pearl shone light into the kingdom, which lay inside an old seamount.
Mairin’s own grotto was tucked away at the back of the compound with only a tiny garden of sea lavender flowers for her to tend. The queen had placed her as far from the entrance as possible, and Mairin had to swim through the entire household when she wanted to leave.
Another guard. The muscular triton floated with his arms crossed near the pathway leaving the outer courtyard. His tail barely moved, but his sharp eyes scanned the busy area filled with merpeople going about their business. She altered her path before he noticed her. So many guards today.
With determination, Mairin eased through the abandoned garden that once belonged to the infamous Little Mermaid. Designed to resemble the sun, the circular garden consisted entirely of red flowers underneath a single red willow tree which swayed over an algae-covered statue.
They called it the Little Mermaid’s statue, even though it wasn’t her image. A heavy marble carving of a prince had plunked down on the seabed many years ago in the center of the Little Mermaid’s garden.
To most merpeople today, the statue was merely a symbol that the world above the sea existed. Mer society used to reflect what happened above-sea, sharing similar languages and societal structure as the humans. But who knew what went on up there now?
Because of what the Little Mermaid did one hundred years ago, merpeople were banned from surfacing. Used to be that on their fifteenth birthdays, they went up to breathe the air for the first time and celebrate that their lungs were strong enough to surface. Now, all merpeople were held undersea by an invisible barrier. The barrier, clear as water and flexible like seaweed, would remain in place for another two hundred years.
It had been two years since Mairin’s lungs had matured and more than anything, she wanted to go up to the surface and breathe air, like all generations of merpeople before her had done. She wanted to float on the waves and watch the flying fish playing in the sun. Miss Pearl, an elder, said sound was different above water, and Mairin wanted to hear it for herself.
While the older merpeople avoided the overgrown garden, the younger ones liked to frighten each other with stories of sea polyps lying in wait to grab a tail, holding a mermaid captive for the finfolk to find. Mairin usually stayed away from the garden because it was a constant reminder of the reason the merpeople could no longer surface.
Beyond the Little Mermaid’s garden, an elderly mermaid with a bright pink tail tended her own garden. Miss Pearl. The only way for young mermaids to learn about the world above-sea was to rely on the old stories the elders like Miss Pearl remembered. Her enthusiasm for above-sea lore was unmatched—from her fascination with tea rituals to her love of dogs.
Mairin felt the tiniest twinge of guilt for leaving now instead of staying for their meeting. Miss Pearl wanted to speak with her alone before the nightly singing, but the elder wouldn’t tell anyone if Mairin was late.
As Marin left the boundary of her kingdom, she angled up as she swam, quickly, as she hadn’t much time before someone else might miss her. Just a little farther, and she swam through a tight valley and into open water. When Mairin turned toward the slope that would lead her to shore, something grabbed her tail. She spun around to see a handsome junior guard holding on to her.
Zale. He would be the one to follow her. As a newly appointed guard, he was a little too eager to please her father. Zale had eyes like seawater after a storm, and his tail was dark enough that he could hide in the shadows without her noticing.
“Not so fast,” he said. “The queen put the scavenging grounds off limits until summer because the finfolk migration has started.”
The finfolk were a sorcerer race of shape-shifters, able to form legs and walk on land. Ruled by the sea witch, they were unpredictable and harbored anger toward the merpeople since they, too, had been barred from surfacing.
“She said starting today. It can start after I get back.” Mairin twitched her tail and wiggled out of his grasp. Not that she was going to the scavenging grounds.
“No way, duckling. If you want to find something to decorate your garden, you’re not getting it today.” Zale swam in front of her, blocking her path.
“You know I don’t like it when you call me that.” She tried to swim around, but he blocked her again.
“You’re not going anywhere.” Zale remained firm. “Especially alone. It’s too dangerous.”
Zale didn’t know the half of what she’d been doing lately. She faced him square on. “Was it too dangerous when you and Kai went to the shipwreck yesterday?”
Zale’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Apparently we had you for backup if the finfolk came along.” He crossed his arms and grinned like the arrogant merman he was. “You know, if you want to lose the nickname, you have to quit following me around.”
“I’m not following you.”
“Seems like you were.”
“No, the shipwreck is where the best sea cucumbers are. I wanted to make sure you two didn’t take them all.” Mairin should have kept quiet. She didn’t want Zale to figure out that she hadn’t been following them because she was already there. The sea cucumber was her mother’s favorite, so it didn’t hurt to have one with her when sneaking back into the palace after exploring along the shore.
Zale’s jovial expression disappeared. “Mairin, I can’t look the other way anymore. I work for your father now, and I want to do a good job. Kai and I were doing scientific work. Elder Rush has a theory about the currents, and we wanted to see if he was right.”
“Science? That’s your excuse for going outside of the seamount?”
“We’re working on something big.”
“Like the time you tried to catch a shark so you could see if they really had that many rows of teeth?”
“How were we to know you’d swim into the trap?”
She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. Growing up with you two, I learned to take care of myself.”
“Then we were good for something, were we not?”
Mairin had to get him moving, or she’d never make it out to the shore and back before their nightly singing. Zale’s new responsibilities were proving bothersome to her plans. But Zale never could resist a challenge, and she had an idea. She tapped her finger on her lips.
“I bet I can beat you in a race to the shipwreck.” She suspected the edge of the barrier was near the coast, and if she could get Zale as far as the ship, she might talk him into going farther.
“I doubt it, little duckling.”
“Care to challenge me?”
“Any time.”
“How about now?” she said. “If I win, you drop the nickname. If you win, I won’t let it slip to the queen that you and Kai are up to something.”
He hesitated, his gaze darting over her shoulder.
She turned around. Great. Now her brother was tagging along. She might slip past Zale, but Kai too? He might suspect she was up to something more.
“Scared she’s got you, Zale?” Kai taunted.
“Not at all.” Zale casually put his arm around Mairin. “I can swim faster than this little duckling any time.”
She swam out from under his embrace and shoved him away.
“I’ll win.” Zale locked eyes with her. “And when I do, you come home with us and keep our visit to the shipwreck a secret.”
“I want in on that.” Her brother shot Zale a conspiratorial wink.
“Deal. First to the galley wins.” Mairin took off before they had a chance to react. She might be fast in the short term, but her speed was no match for a merman’s power. By making the end-point inside the ship, she could slip in through a small gash in the side, whereas they would have to enter through the top. And at least this way, she had a chance of winning. In fact, she might earn their silence and get rid of her childhood nickname all in one swoop.
The sea was unusually empty. With no schools of fish or those slow and silly turtles to work around, they made good time. Kai and Zale swam overhead and reached the sunken steel ship first.
Small orange and brown rusticles dripped from the rails giving the vessel a spooky appearance. How foolish of humans to build such weak vessels. Their ships ended up at the bottom of the sea where the ocean reclaimed them.
Mairin swam through the gash in the hull and within seconds had made her way through the collapsed floors and into the galley. Meanwhile, Zale and Kai banged their way down the hall as they knocked each other around trying to be first. Quickly, she grabbed a teacup and saucer and floated on her back like she’d been waiting minutes, not seconds.
They tried to squeeze through the door together, smashing the decaying wood on either side. Zale burst in first, with Kai not far behind.
Mairin faked a surprised look. “Good of you to join me. Tea?”
Zale smiled and took the teacup. “Don’t mind if I do.”
But Kai scowled, getting between her and Zale. “I don’t like that you sneak off alone like this. What are you doing anyway?”
Without meaning to, she looked up through the small hole in the ship, and Kai figured it out immediately.
“Not the barrier again. Look, you’re going to hurt yourself trying to break through. You can’t do it. I agreed to this race, so I could make you come home with us.”
Before Mairin could explain her theory, a long, low horn sounded. The three looked at each other in alarm. The emergency horn sounded again, calling all merpeople to the palace. All the way out at the shipwreck the sound was faint, but distinct.
“Go, go, go!” Zale herded them through the ship as his triton training kicked in. Zale and Kai assumed positions protecting the princess as they raced back to the kingdom. Kai led the way, followed by Mairin, trailed by Zale.
A large school of herring blocked their way, but shifted position, opening a gap for them.
“What do you think the alarm is about?” Mairin asked.
“The attacks, of course.” Kai scanned the area.
“What attacks?”
Zale answered. “Your father has the tritons on high alert. We’ve been monitoring the perimeter for weeks. There have been signs that the finfolk plan to cause trouble during their migration.”
Mairin bit her lip. Even when the queen issued new orders today, Mairin assumed the restrictions were mostly aimed at herself, to keep her from experimenting with the barrier. She didn’t like that her brother and Zale had noticed something about her beloved home that she’d missed.
She took a shortcut, darting through a small opening in a coral outcrop where they couldn’t follow. From there, the fastest way back into the kingdom led through the seamount’s main entrance, a tunnel tucked behind a coral wall. A triton guard who blended into the rocky surface swam forward. He wanted her to know he was there, guarding their land.
She acknowledged him with a curt nod before entering.
Hidden from the casual passerby, the plain entrance belied the magical world the merpeople had created in their grotto. “No need to tell everyone where we are” was oft-said to the young merpeople when their elders taught them about their defenses. “If they can’t see you, they can’t harm you.”
But they can hear us. Beautiful singing flowed through the water. The song was soft and melodic. Mairin hadn’t realized how far into the sea their voices carried. Each of the merpeople had the gift of singing. No one voice was better than another, only different. Each was pitch perfect and soothing to the ears, and to hear them all together as one voice overwhelmed her.
She loved the merpeople and their hidden kingdom. The crusty seamount. The ancient coral reef that formed their homes. The kindness of the elders who put up with her endless questions about above-sea. Nothing would tempt her to join the humans in their world. She only wanted the full experience of existing both below- and above-sea. She wanted that for all merpeople.
As Mairin drew near to the heart of the kingdom—the queen’s palace—her alarm grew. At this time of day, the palace garden was normally alive with activity and happy voices. Instead, it was empty.
Kai and Zale caught up and flanked her.
“See anything?” Zale whispered. He was coiled and ready for action.
“Nothing,” Kai answered. “But the guard wouldn’t have let us enter if it wasn’t safe.”
The singing grew louder here. It was a song of healing. Someone had been hurt.
Heart pounding, Mairin surged forward and joined the throng inside the courtyard. She examined the sad faces. The queen’s attendants, marked by their thin golden armbands, bore mournful expressions, arms looped in solidarity. The mermaid beside her kept her gaze on the seabed as she sang.
Mairin searched for her closest loved ones, friends and family members. There was Anemone, her best friend, with her hands over her face. The queen? Mairin’s breath caught. Where was her mother? Mairin squeezed her way through the merpeople until she saw a path to the throne.
Yes, her mother was seated with three of her sisters flanking her. Their short hair, once long and beautiful, floated straight up, the queen’s hair framing her crown. The royal sisters’ hair stood in contrast to the flowing locks of all the other mermaids. Mairin always thought their short hair made them look tough. Weathered. Another sign of what their sister, the Little Mermaid, did to them. Two more sisters yet living had moved to other kingdoms years ago.
Who were they singing to? She couldn’t ask without someone realizing she’d been gone and risk them telling her mother what a disgrace that her daughter cared so little for their kingdom during a time of crisis.
She joined in the singing. Quietly at first, then she added her voice to the melancholy tune as if she’d been there the entire time.
Kai whispered, “Can you tell what’s going on?”
She lifted her hands, indicating she didn’t know.
His brow furrowed, and he left, but was back within seconds. He held Mairin’s elbow. “I’m sorry,” he said, close to her ear. “It’s Miss Pearl.”
