Part 21 (1/2)

As the princesses walk in, there isn't a single person who isn't staring at them. The glamours may disguise their naturally raw colors and their flawless faces. But nothing can disguise their hourgla.s.s figures as they move through the desk aisles like snakes in the desert.

There are four of them, from the princess with a lush head of chestnut waves who wears a s.h.i.+rt so tiny she might as well be wearing two clam sh.e.l.ls on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, to the one with ivory skin and plum-purple hair gathered in a bun. Like Thalia, nothing disguises the slight point to their ears or the gem-like eyes that glance giddily around the cla.s.sroom.

”Dude,” Angelo goes, ”can I come to your next Christmas party?”

Sure, if Christmas is going to be ten thousand leagues under the sea and Rudolph is going to be a sea horse named Atticus.

Gwen takes the empty seat behind me just as the bell rings. I get up right away, because part of me is afraid she's going to take out a knife and stab me in the back. She thinks I killed her fiancee, and now she's going to try to kill me on my own turf.

My cla.s.smates stand aside to let Gwen leave first. I lean against the lockers just outside the door, and she stands in front of me. The metal bits of her leather jacket clink, clink. The gray of her eyes is harsh, and they're set on my face. Still, when she smiles, everything about her softens.

”I'm guessing this isn't your first time on land,” I say.

She shakes her head slowly. ”I've got a few years on you, foot-fin.”

”You're not allowed to call me that.”

”I can do whatever I want.” She crosses her arms over her chest, which pushes her cleavage up and out. Not that I'm noticing or anything.

”What do you think you're doing here?”

She shrugs. ”It's tradition for eligible princesses to seek a champion for courts.h.i.+p. Brendan and Dylan are being visited by dozens of mermaids from every inch of the seas. Technically, I'm betrothed, so I don't have to be here. But my fiance's gone missing because of some half-breed claiming the throne.”

Fine. If she wants to go that route. ”I'm flattered you've chosen me to rebound on, especially after what you did to your champion.”

If she weren't already so white, I'd say she goes pale at that. But the shock that registers on her face is all the proof I need that she helped Layla win, that she did something to Elias, which makes her guiltier than it makes me.

”That's right, Princess. I know.”

She purses her full pink lips, seething. For a moment, I think she's going to hit me, but she just turns on her heel and struts down the hall as if she's done it a hundred times before.

When the other princesses come out, they walk past and touch my face and poke my abs and my b.u.t.t. The one with the plum-purple hair tries to go right for the goods, and then the princesses disappear. They mingle into the flow of students. Angelo pushes past me, hot on the trail of a girl who could probably eat him alive in a second, not that he'd complain.

At the first glimpse of Kurt's face, I throw my hands in the air and yell at him. ”I have to court the princesses? Why didn't you tell me?”

He seems as surprised as I am. ”I honestly didn't remember that part of the champions.h.i.+p. I didn't think they'd be interested in you.”

”Thanks. I really feel the love, bro.”

”That's not what I meant. I meant that you're human. Part human. I should've taken into account that you're the grandson of the king. The princesses are sort of-”

”Shallow?” Layla suggests, seemingly too happy at my misery.

”I've swum in deeper puddles than them,” Thalia snarls. ”They don't want mates, they want meals.”

”Cool, so mergirls are easy,” Layla says. She shoots a finger toward me. ”Hey! That explains you.”

When I don't laugh, she pats Thalia's shoulder. ”No offense.”

”None taken. I absolutely loathe those girls.” Her cheeks puff up. All things considered, Thalia is pretty cute when she's angry.

”They don't seem so bad,” Ryan says, strutting out of the cla.s.sroom and slinging his arms around Thalia's waist. He picks her up, and they're suddenly in their own world, away from the merrows, the princesses, the sea witch, and my champions.h.i.+p. They're in high school.

Layla looks away from them guiltily. I wonder if she's thinking about Alex. Maybe she's thinking about Kurt. She sure isn't thinking about me, the way she keeps avoiding my face. ”Maddy really said she doesn't have it?”

I nod. ”Yep.”

”Explain to me why you can't give the oracle something else.” Layla reaches over to my chest and picks off a bit of lint. She smooths the fabric on my chest, absentmindedly, then pulls her hand away like she didn't realize what she was doing. I wonder if she can feel my skin grow hot at her touch.

Kurt answers, ”That seems like the best idea, but all the other champions will be taking similar gifts-from family jewels to promising their firstborn children. This is specific. The Venus pearl is something that was taken from her.”

”So then don't give her something else,” Layla corrects herself. We're in front of Ms. Pippen's English cla.s.s.

Jerry runs out of the room. ”Pippen's a no-show.”

”Again?” Thalia goes.

”Figured I'd wait a few more minutes in case the sub shows and I can get attendance in, but she's not here either.” Angelo runs past, saying something about ”red-hot girls in school in the caf.” He jets down the hallway, chasing the hot mermaid trail.

Under the cacophony of students shouting, singing, or just being general pains in the a.s.ses is the same lullaby hum of the princesses. If I weren't so irritated, I'd say it was the greatest thing I've ever heard-it makes your heart sigh and burn all at once.

We take a smaller table away from the swim team. On a regular day it would be considered a huge diss to leave your team's table. Today they're all fawning over my mermaid cousins and don't even notice. That explains the way everyone was behaving in the halls before. Well, except that you never really know with Angelo. If I don't do something, the whole school may end up either making out or duking it out.

Over at the swim team's table, Gwen and the mermaid princesses have formed a makes.h.i.+ft court with Gwen at the epicenter. Their shoulders peek from their sheer dresses, and their legs-which would normally be hidden beneath layers of scales-are crossed and exposed by the slits of their skirts for the enjoyment of every guy, girl, and pervy lunch monitor in the cafeteria. Their gem-like eyes, so much like mine, watch their surroundings carefully.

”I'll be right back,” I say, ignoring Kurt's warning not to do anything irrational and to remember this is all court politics.

Gwen settles her stormy gray eyes on me. They're lined with black makeup. She arches an eyebrow, which is kind of funny, because she's so blond and fair that it doesn't look like she has eyelashes or eyebrows unless you're up close. ”Have you been formally introduced yet?”

I smile as charmingly as I can. ”Can't say I have.”

”That over there is Violet, Adaro's cousin. She's got the prettiest purple hair in her region. This is Kai, Brendan's aunt. She's a bit shy, but she'll come along. And that's Menana, a freshwater princess from the Rocky Mountain lakes. She's like our very own Pocahontas.” They wave with their fingers, some more interested than others. Then again, I shouldn't mistake interest for amus.e.m.e.nt.

I feel like I'd rather take my chances with Nieve than try to calm down a horde of mermaids. Like my dad says, h.e.l.l hath no fury like when your mother doesn't get what she wants. And here I am with a p.i.s.sed-off wannabe queen and her posse.

Bertie notices me for the first time. His eyes are gla.s.sy, but there's a joker smile plastered on his face. ”Man, I wish I were part of your family.”

No, you don't.

”I need you to please call them off, Gwen.”

”Whatever do you mean?” She stares at me so innocently that I almost want to believe her.

”I'm half human. Not half stupid.” Most of the time.

”You're not king, Tristan Hart.”

”My grandfather-”