Of Poseidon

you. Let’s go, Chloe.”
    Galen looks like he wants to say something, but I turn away. He’s been a good sport, but I’m not interested in discussing swimmer safety—or being introduced to any more of his hostile relatives. Nothing he can say will change the fact that DNA from my cheek is smeared on his chest.
    Trying not to actually march, I thrust past them and make my way down the stairs leading to the pristine white sand. I hear Chloe closing the distance behind me, giggling. And I decide on sunflowers for her funeral.

2
    THE SIBLINGS lean on their elbows against the rail, watching the girls they just met peel the T-shirts off their bikinis and wade into the water with the surfboard floating between them.
    “She’s probably just wearing contacts,” Rayna says. “They make contacts in that color, you know.”
    He shakes his head. “She’s not wearing contacts. You saw her just as plain as you’re seeing me. She’s one of us.”
    “You’re losing it. She can’t be one of us. Look at her hair. You can’t even call that blonde. It’s almost white .”
    Galen frowns. The hair color had thrown him off too—before he had touched her. The simple contact of grasping her arm when she fell dispensed any doubts. The Syrena are always attracted to their own kind—which helps them find each other across miles and miles of ocean. Usually that attraction is limited to water transmission, where they can sense the presence of one of their own. He’s never heard of it occurring on land before—and never felt it so strongly, period—but he knows what he felt. He wouldn’t— couldn’t react that way to a human. Especially given how much he despises them.
    “I know it’s unusual—”
    “Unusual? It’s impossible, Galen! Our genes don’t come with the ‘blonde’ option.”
    “Stop being dramatic. She is one of us. You can see how bad she is at being human. I thought she was going to brain herself on the rail.”
    “Okay, let’s say by some off chance she figured out how to bleach thousands of years of genetics out of her hair. Now explain why she’s hanging out—no, vacationing —with humans. She’s breaking the law right in front of our faces, splashing around in the water with her obnoxious human friend. Why is that, Galen?”
    He shrugs. “Maybe she doesn’t know who we are.”
    “What do you mean? Everyone knows who we are!”
    “Obviously not. We’ve never met her before, remember?”
    She snorts. “Are you dehydrated? She can see our mark. It’s not like we were hiding it.”
    “Maybe she thinks it’s a tattoo,” he offers.
    “A what?”
    “Look around, Rayna. See the markings on that human girl’s ankle?” He points toward a man walking up the stairs. “See that male? He’s got markings—humans call them tattoos—all over him. Maybe she thought—”
    Rayna holds up her hand. “Stop. She’d recognize the trident. If she was one of us.”
    Galen nods. She’s right. A Syrena knows a Royal by the small blue trident on their stomach—and dressed for the human beach, it’s visible on both of them right now. So, she has blonde—white—hair, and didn’t recognize them as Royals. But he knows what he felt. And she does have the eyes.…
    Rayna groans. “Oh, no.”
    “What?”
    “You’re making that face.”
    “What face?”
    “The face you make when you think you’re right.”
    “Am I?” He watches Emma straddling the surfboard, splashing waves of saltwater in her friend’s face without mercy. He grins.
    “We’re not going home, are we?” Rayna says, propping herself against the rail.
    “Dr. Milligan doesn’t call for just anything. If he thinks it’s of interest, then it probably is. You can leave if you want, but I’m looking into it.” Dr. Milligan is one of the only humans Galen trusts. If the doctor were going to tell anyone about the Syrena’s existence, he would have done it the day Galen had saved his life all those years ago. Instead, Dr. Milligan returned the favor by denying he’d ever seen Galen—even when his scuba companions called the press. Since then, they had built a friendship by sharing sushi, afternoon swims, and most importantly, information. Dr. Milligan is a well-connected and highly respected oceanographer and the director of the Gulfarium here on the coast, in a prime position to monitor the activities of his professional colleagues.
    When Galen received Dr. Milligan’s urgent voice mail yesterday about a blonde Syrena