Chapter 41

“Well, a mermaid is certainly not a gorgeous woman,” Laila murmurs, a cunning little grin takes her lips as Laila places my pretty little book on the table and conjures a slim volume of her own. “This is.” And then she opens the page and my mouth falls open.

Because the creature there…

Well, it certainly has a fish’s tail.

But the top half, where it should be a beautiful maiden?

Instead it’s the ugliest little monkey, covered in fur, with sharp little teeth, beady eyes, and curled, clawed fingers.

Anton and I both stare at the mermaid for a long, long moment before we burst into laughter.

“See!?” Laila says, laughing just as hard as we were. “Mermaids in my world are like – pests! They’re horrible! They’re called ‘maids’ ironically because they’re the opposite – they’re the worst – they tear apart our nets and steal our fish! And then climb into the trees and eat the fish and drop the skin and scales on people walking beneath!”

Anton and I laugh harder, imagining it, and I shake my head, my hand pressed to my aching stomach, apologizing to my friend for the mistake and begging her forgiveness. She gives it, of course – because how could we have known?

“Oh my god,” I murmur, closing my eyes as the laughter fades. “I wonder if somehow the story of the mermaid crossed into our world,” I murmur, “and then got…twisted over hundreds of years to be a beautiful sea maiden instead of a horrible little monkey fish.”

“Oh, what a bummer,” Anton murmurs, letting his eyes fall shut even as he smiles. “I always had a crush on that mermaid in the book. Thought we had kind of an…affinity for each other.”

“Really?” Laila asks, peering again at the picture book. “Is it because she’s all…naked?”

Anton laughs and just shrugs, but I shake my head at Laila, intuiting the direction of Anton’s thoughts. “No, Anton probably just thinks he’s mer-adjacent,” I murmur, reaching again for my coffee and taking a sip. “Because he can breathe under water.”

“Could breathe underwater,” Anton says, his eyes still shut, lifting a single correcting finger. “When I had a body and lungs with which to breathe.”

I nod, conceding the point. But then I turn towards Laila with surprise when I see that she has gone completely still.

“You – you can breathe underwater?” she asks, incredibly excited, staring at Anton like he’s a marvel.

Anton opens his eyes and looks at her. “What?”

“Are you serious?” she breathes, leaning forward and reaching for him, her hands slipping right through his knee where she tries to touch him. She falls forward a bit but catches herself. Anton sits up straighter in surprise at her reaction.

“Um, yes?” he asks, glancing at me. I just shrug, totally not getting it. “Why? Is that…a big deal?”

“It’s Selkie,” Laila breathes, nodding eagerly. “It’s one of our gifts – but it hasn’t been seen in hundreds of years –“

“Wait,” Anton says, leaning forward towards her with a frown, “one of…one of ‘our’ gifts? One of your gifts? What are you –“

“It’s Selkie!” she says, laughing and holding her hands out towards him. “You’re Selkie! Like me! You’re Selkie!” she gasps, pressing her hands again to her heart. “You’re our lost prince!”

I go very still, looking between the two of them.

“Wait,” I say, frowning like Anton is, “isn’t a Selkie…is it the same in our mythology? A Selkie is like a seal shifter?”

“Yes!” Laila says, laughing with eager delight and nodding as she glances at me and then turns her eyes back to Anton. “A seal, like me! You can shift into a seal! But no one’s been born with the power to breathe under water in so long – you’re – you’re foretold!”

I stare at Laila, everything suddenly snapping into place. Her wide, dark, shining eyes with irises that look almost too wide, her velvety skin with light dappling – and her connection to the sea? God, but how did I miss it – she’s a beautiful Selkie, not a mermaid. “Incredible,” I murmur. “And you can shift? Into a seal?”

“Mmhmm,” she says, sparing me a glance before returning her eyes to Anton, who has her full attention. “It’s a very nice way to swim – much better than in this body.”

“But,” Anton says, shaking his head and leaning forward to Laila almost as if he’s afraid to break her heart. “I’m not a Selkie – I’m a wolf. When I shift, I shift into a wolf.”

“Maybe you’re both,” she whispers, nodding to him. “Anything is possible, right?”

I’m about to counter this, but then my words get stuck in my throat as I consider that my Aunt Cora was the first hybrid wolf and human, though we’d previously been told that that wasn’t possible. And that I’m…in the Underworld hanging out with my ghost and Selkie buddies.

And less then a week ago…I didn’t think that was possible either.

“God, Anton,” I murmur, resting my chin on my fist and peering at him. “Maybe you are.”

I guess that my realm of possibility has been expanding of late.

“No way,” Anton says, frowning at both of us and spreading his hands wide. “It’s a coincidence –“

“Oh, but being Selkie is so great!” Laila says, clapping her hands. “You’ll love it! I’ll take you swimming in our seal bodies and we can catch fish! They’re so much better fresh!”

“Still dead, Laila,” Anton says, smiling gently at her and pressing a hand to his heart.

“Oh, Junie will change all that when she’s Queen of the Underworld,” Laila says, laughing and sitting back happily against the back of the couch.

I go a bit still at this claim. Does she seriously think I’m going to win?

“In the meantime,” Laila says, waving her hand and conjuring a book onto the table – another children’s book from her world with lots of illustrations. “Here is a Selkie history. You should read it when you have a spare moment! It will tell you all about our people!”

“Thank you for the children’s version,” Anton murmurs, leaning forward to peer at it.

“I’ll help you turn the pages,” I whisper, leaning forward with him and patting him on the back.

The three of us have a very happy day then, with Laila telling us more about her people and their traditions and us filling her in on our own. About halfway through the day we get very bored and call up some materials with which to make cocktails, Laila and I trading recipes back and forth. Though, honestly, Anton has to help me make mine because I’m barely old enough to drink in Moon Valley and don’t have a ton of experience.

By the time Laila’s Herald appears that evening, we’re both a little squiffy. And Anton, too, is looser than I expected.

“Hey, guy,” Anton says, closing one eye and shaping his fingers into a gun, pointing them at the Herald. “How you been? You want a drink?”

The Herald just stares at Anton for a second like he’s very worried about him. Then he turns to Laila. “Are you ready, Princess? The hour is late. You should return to your room.”

“Nooo,” I whine, reaching for Laila’s hand to tug her back on the couch when she sighs and begins to stand. “You should sleep over!”

“She can’t,” the Herald says, his voice flat.

“Why can’t she sleep over!?” I gasp like it’s very terrible harsh news.

“Because,” the Herald sighs as Laila pouts and tugs her arm from my hand, moving to his side. “All Contestants must spend the night in their own room.”

“Why?” Anton asks, screwing his face up in confusion.

The Herald sighs again, raising his hand to cover his face like he can’t believe he has to explain this to a bunch of drunk idiots. “Just in case the Prince should choose to…visit. One of his Contestants.”

We all stare at him blankly.

“For…a nighttime call?”

As one, the three of us gasp.

“Oh my god,” Laila whispers, completely scandalized. “Are some girls getting…nighttime calls?”

“If he comes here I’ll kill him,” I murmur, my eyes narrowing.

“He’d only be visiting me anyway,” Anton murmurs, pointing a proud thumb at his chest.

The Herald groans – very unprofessionally if you ask me – and bows to Laila. “You can visit again in the morning…should you wish it.” He sighs like it’s a bad idea. “But, truly, Princess…you should return to your room.”

“Okay, I’ll come tomorrow!” Laila says cheerfully, waving to us. We wave back, calling our goodbyes as the Herald vanishes her away.

I pout after she’s gone. “Bummer. Laila is fun.”

“Drinking is fun,” Anton murmurs, nodding towards the drinks still on the table. “Have more.”

“What?” I turn to him in surprise, blinking. “Are you trying to get me drunk, Anton?”

“Don’t you get it, Junie?” he asks, grinning at me, his eyes a little hazy. “Apparently you can’t even drink alone with me around. I’m feeling this somehow – you get drunk, I get drunk. Something about the tie.”

I gasp a little, delighted. “Oh, cool!”

“Agreed,” he murmurs. “Have a margarita next.”

“You got it!” I say, nodding and conjuring what I think are the ingredients for that onto the table before looking at him expectantly for the recipe.

He just stares at what I’ve made appear. “Olives, June?” He looks at me with a great deal of pity.

I roll my eyes and shrug. “I’m new to this!”

He groans. “No excuses for olives in a margarita. Now what we need first, Princess,” he says, quite encouraging. “Are some limes. And a very sharp knife.”

I grin, rubbing my hands together, eager to get started. “Sharp knife I can do.”

He glances at me, anxious. “Maybe a dull one for you, just to start.”