I laugh. "Yeah, shoes."

He gives one low bow to my grandfather, takes off his baseball cap, and shakes his matted brown hair. "From the members of Betwixt, a gracious farewell. From myself, a wicked awesome good time." He jogs back to the ship, his boots sending up clouds of sand behind him.

Kurt and I turn to my grandfather. I don't know what to say, really. I want to stay longer and ask him to tell me everything. I've never had a grandfather. I've watched Layla with her two grandfathers, both of them tiny and wielding their canes like angry swords and giving her money to put into a college savings fund. When you grow up without grandparents, it's like you're missing a link to a past you didn't even care you had until you have to sort through it to understand who you are. I want to know, and there is too much to know.

My grandfather's enormous hands come down on our shoulders. "You're both in very good company." He walks back through the trees until my eyes can't follow.

Her name was Lola-"

We're sailing in the warm night breeze. Marty's singing at me.

"She was a showgirl-"

Layla and Thalia are getting navigation lessons from Arion, who is clearly smitten with the two prettiest girls in the whole world.

"Marty?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't forget who has a new, shiny dagger in his backpack."

Marty makes a zipper motion over his lips and leans back against a wooden barrel, wriggling his toes. His heavy, black leather boots are beside him, along with his shirt and his hat. He calls out, "Hey, Arion!"

Arion pulls on the braided ropes and sails, and swings as close to us as the black ropes that bind him will allow.

"What is it now, Master Marty?"

"I like that. Master Marty. Sounds official. So you got any more of that seaweed ale? It's not so bad now. The gra.s.sy aftertaste kind of goes away."

Arion's cool composure is evaporating. His bushy black eyebrows furrow. "There's more below deck. Please, have as much as you'd like. Just beware of the urchin brothers."

At the mention of the little urchin guys, Marty shakes his head and leans back. "I think I'm good. Are we there yet?"

"Soon. Very soon," the captain says, turning back to his post. I think he mumbles something like Not nearly soon enough.

"Yo, Kurtomawhatsis?" says Marty.

"Just Kurt is fine," Kurt says.

"What's your story, man? Why does the king trust you so much?"

Kurt shrugs. "My father was on his council. My father built the Gla.s.s Palace. My mother was part of the queen's court when she was still alive. She was like a sister to Lady Maia, Tristan's mother."

"Ahh. 'Splains it."

"What's your story?" Kurt asks in return. I don't know if it's the seaweed ale, which is as good as it sounds, or if he's just gotten comfortable, but Kurt is almost friendly. "What are you? I can't smell you, and the king already a.s.serted that you're not human. You're no vampire or werewolf. You're no fey. You're not a witch."

"There are a bajillion otherworldly creatures out there, Kurt, my man. Maybe I'm a mega-vampire-werewolf-creature mix with fairy powers!" Marty tries to stand, but we hit a small wave and he falls back.

"Not nearly as cunning," Kurt whispers to me. "Besides, the ale affects you like a human."

Marty taps his temples with his index finger and winks at us. "Smart man."

"But you're not human," I repeat.

"Yes, Champion Tristan Hart."

"Stop drinking that s.h.i.t. It got Layla in enough trouble."

And there she walks into the conversation. My foot tastes rather nasty.

"How was I supposed to know I was drinking a mermaid roofie? I won, didn't I?"

I think of Elias's fiancee. The black film over her eyes. Kurt said not all mermaids have powers. Maybe it was just the light. But how else could Elias lose?

"I thought you were dead meat, ladybird," Marty says, pulling her down so that she sits on his lap. I don't know what it is about Marty, but he's easy to be comfortable with. She doesn't even smack him the way she would've smacked Angelo or one of the boys.

"I don't know what you were thinking," Kurt says, "challenging Elias like that. And you. You're a champion. There are things you're not supposed to do. It's a wonder the entire court didn't get into an uproar."

"Oh, they had an uproar," Layla goes. "Your grandfather just put an end to it right away. After two of the guards pulled you out, another two went back to look for Elias. No one knew what happened. His girlfriend was screaming, 'I want him dead! I want revenge!' about you and went crazy."

"She's hot, too hot for a creep like Elias," Marty says.

"Does she have any magic?" I wiggle my fingers.

"No. It would've been common knowledge if her family still had magics. The king decreed that those who still do must make it known." Kurt eyes me curiously. "Why do you ask?

"No reason."

Thalia swings from the mast deck to the main deck on a rope. She crashes between her brother and me. "She's not very nice. Then again, I wouldn't be nice either if my father had promised me to marry Elias."

Part of me feels ashamed. I know I didn't like Elias. But I didn't kill him. He was alive. I know he was. h.e.l.l, if he hadn't pa.s.sed out, he would've probably killed me.

"Did you tell them what you are yet?" Thalia says, looking from Marty to us.

His eyes go wide and he stares at her. "That's so uncool, ladybird."

Thalia giggles, her green hair flying all over my face as we ride against a small wave and strong wind.

"Well?" I'm waiting.

"I'm not going to tell you." Thalia puts a finger to her lips.

Marty looks more relieved.

"It's not my fault I'm cleverer than you all." Thalia stands. She holds on to the side of the ship and looks out at the night. The barely there sliver of moon casts a silver glow on the water. There's a dark mound out there that must be Coney Island. She looks back at us over one shoulder and winks. She pulls her shirt over her head and pulls her puffy skirt down. I look away because it's just weird looking at her like that. She steps on the rail and jumps over. I catch a shimmer of green scales and the translucent tip of her fins.

"I love skinny-dipping." Marty stands, pushing Layla to the ground. He's undoing his belt buckle.

"Whoa, whoa. Technically she's dressed, as far as mermaids go," I say.

Kurt shakes his head. "No, some of us wear more clothes than others. Purely for decoration, like the princesses. But it's bothersome when you're in and out of the water."

"See, that settles it."

"Marty, gross!" Layla shields her eyes as he drops his jeans and boxers, which are white with little red kisses. There's a second splash.

Suddenly I nudge Layla. I think of her face sleeping, the way she pulled me closer and lay on my chest. "Remember when we went skinny-dipping off the pier this winter?"

Layla shakes her head and tries to suppress a laugh. "I don't know who had a bigger heart attack, the police officer who found us or my mother when he told her."

She hugs her knees and stares at her toes. It's like we're in my living room again, talking smack about the girls she doesn't like and letting a movie run in the background for white noise. Her hair tangles in the breeze, and when she looks up, I can see her eyes are glazed over. "What's going to happen now?"

"Guess I have to search for an oracle and get the trident pieces back." When I say that, it doesn't sound so hard. Then I let my mind go dark. "What if the others get to them first? They have entire kingdoms as a resource. I have you." I nod to Kurt. "No offense."

"I'm not hurt. You're right. I'm but one source of knowledge. We also have your mother and Thalia, who has her own resources, believe it or not."

"And me," Layla adds.

"You're not in this. I can't have you almost killed again."

She picks at the chipping yellow nail polish on her toes. Her lavender scent is thin in the sea breeze, but it's still there. Her lips are pursed, stubborn, decided. She's all You're not the boss of me, Tristan Hart. "Remember when you had that harebrained idea to sail off to the Mississippi like Huck and Jim?" she says.

"Yeah, I needed someone to make me some sandwiches while I sailed."

"Shut up." She gets up in my face. Her pretty hazel eyes stare me down; her hair gets blown right in my face. I could kiss her now if I wanted to. "I went because I knew you wouldn't make it a day without me," she says. "Plus, it's not a Coney Island summer without you. So I'm in. Because you're the biggest jerk on the planet, but you're my jerk."

"Don't spare my feelings." I press my hand to my heart and change the subject. "So what'd you get?"

Her expression flits from confusion to duh. She pulls out a thin gold chain with a sh.e.l.l dangling from it. It's a simple little thing; it looks like a spiral that starts off small and ends in a horn-shaped opening.

Kurt nods, Mr. Know-It-All. "Spirula spirula. The symbol of your family. May I?" He takes the necklace from her hands and undoes the clasp. He kneels behind her, and she gathers her hair away from her neck and lets him put it on.

I was going to do that.

Maybe I wasn't, but if she'd asked me to, I would have.

Arion clears his throat. "Sire, we've reached the sh.o.r.e."

I run up to the mast deck and grab on to a rope. The mist that's been clinging to Coney Island for the last couple of days is still there, but it's thinning. Luna Park isn't lit up, which is weird for this time of year, but the rest of Brooklyn is there. The entire city is still awake in its own way. The dark shape of the south pier comes into focus. The urchin brothers are flashes of blue and purple, running along the deck and up on the sails, getting ready for us to stop. My stomach flips like when I'm at the top of the Cyclone, and just like that we've landed. There's a hard splash when the anchor drops down.

"Honey, we're home," Layla says, sneaking up behind me and leaning her head on my arm.

"Yeah."

"This is where I leave you, sire." Arion's black ropes bring him down to where we stand. His black and white scales shimmer in the hazy yellow lights on the pier. "Should you need me, I am but a call away." He pats the golden horn hanging on a leather strap across his chest.

"Thanks a lot, man." I hold out my hand to him. I don't know how merpeople say hi and bye. I guess I should add that to the things I still need Kurt to teach me.

Arion stares at my hand like he doesn't know what's required of him.

Layla laughs. "Look, Arion." She slaps my hand, our fingers hooking in the universal Hey, man, what's good? hand slap. I guess it's not as universal as I thought.

"Ah." His booming laughter echoes as he does as Layla shows him. "My very best." He can't help it; he still bows.

I run to the window and pull open the curtains. There's sun! No more fog. Summer in Coney Island is here, like my grandfather said it would be.

"I don't think I've seen you that happy since you were eight and there was a blizzard." Dad stands in jeans and a white T-shirt. As he takes a sip from his coffee, the smell wafts toward me and my stomach grumbles.

"Hungry?"

"Ugh, merpeople are not known for their culinary skills. I ate jellyfish-brain Jell-O."

"Blech." He waves me toward the kitchen. "Kurt's in your bathroom, and Thalia is in your mom's. I think she's using my shampoo to make bubbles."

"Those darn mermaids." I find two cold slices of leftover meat-lover's pizza, which I devour in five bites.

"Don't get too full. Mom wants to make pancakes."

"Did I mention they make these green biscuit things like pancakes, but they're like mushy shrimp and seaweed?"

He sticks his tongue out in distaste and spreads open the newspaper.

"Sorry we woke you last night when we got home. I had no idea what time it was."

"Yeah, yeah. You kids spoiled the wonderful evening your mom and I were having."

"Ugh, disgusting." I put my fingers in my ears, but I can still hear him laughing. I grab a gla.s.s and some OJ.

"Oh, come on, son, your merbaby zygote didn't make itself."

Orange juice comes out of my nose. It burns, and my dad just rustles his newspaper so he can read it better.

"You've got juice all over your face," Kurt says.

Dad leaves the Brooklyn Star open on an article that reads "Vampire Puppy Sequestered" with "Rise in Missing Teen Boys" right across from it.

Mom walks in wearing one of those long summer dresses that reaches the floor. "Did you see what your dad made for you?" She points out a huge map on the kitchen wall behind me.

"Dad?"

"Well, your mom said there could be maps involved. I figure it's the least I can do to help."

There are geographical maps of the world. One of all the continents, smaller ones of the magnified continents, one for North America, and one of New York City. There's a cl.u.s.ter of push pins at the corner of the NYC map. I grab a blue one and push it on our street. Here. "Command Central."

Mom pulls out the box of pancake mix and a frying pan. "Now, from the beginning."