Of Poseidon

thinking?”
    I won’t meet his glare. “I guess I didn’t care.” Telling him I meant to murder his sister probably wouldn’t go over very well. It would definitely cancel out the Hallmark vote.
    “Unacceptable. Don’t ever risk your life like that again, do you understand?”
    I snort, sending little air bubbles dancing upward. “Hey, you know what else I don’t care about? You giving me orders. I acted stupid, but—”
    “Actually, this is a good time to point out that I’m a Royal,” he says, pointing to the small tattoo of a fork on his stomach, just above the border where his abs turn into fish. “And since you’re obviously Syrena, you do have to obey me.”
    “I’m what ?” I say, trying to figure out how an eating utensil could possibly validate his claim of seniority.
    “Syrena. That’s what we—including you—are called.”
    “Syrena? Not mermaids?”
    Galen clears his throat. “Uh, mer maid ?”
    “Really? You’re gonna go there now ? Fine, mer man —wait, I wouldn’t be a merman.” Really though, what do I know about fish gender? Except that Galen is definitely male, no matter what species he is.
    “Just for the record, we hate that word. And by we, I mean you also.”
    I roll my eyes. “Fine. But I’m not Syrena. Did I mention I don’t have a big fin—”
    “You’re not trying hard enough.”
    “ Trying hard enough? To grow a fin ?”
    He nods. “It’s not natural to you yet. You’ve been in human form too long. But it will start to bother you, being in the water with legs. You’ll get the urge to … stretch.”
    “Does it hurt?”
    He laughs. “No. It feels good, the same way it feels good to stretch after you’ve been sitting a while. Your fin is one big muscle. When you separate it between two human legs, it’s not as powerful. When you change into Syrena form, the muscles stretch and twist back together. Do you feel anything like that right now?”
    I shake my head, eyes wide.
    “It’s just a matter of time,” he says, nodding. “We’ll figure it out.”
    “Galen, I’m not—”
    “Emma, that you’re talking to me half a mile underwater is proof enough of what you are. By the way, how do you feel?”
    “Actually, my lungs feel kind of tight. What does that mean?”
    Before more puny air bubbles escape, he wraps his arms around me and we shoot up. “It means you’re running out of air now,” he murmurs in my ear. My shiver isn’t from the cold.
    Wait. Isn’t it supposed to be freezing half a mile deep in the Atlantic Ocean? I mean, as cold weather goes, I’m kind of a wuss. No one bundles up more than me in the winter. So why aren’t my teeth chattering into bits? It’s swimming-pool cold, not my-tear-ducts-have-ice-in-them cold. Is that thanks to the thick skin Galen mentioned? Does it work like insulation? Does it only work in water?
    We break the surface. Galen nods in approval as I exhale the old air and take in the new. I gulp in a fresh lung-full and start to submerge, but he shakes his head, pulling me back up. “Let’s not push it. I’m not sure how long you can hold your breath. I guess we’ll have to keep an eye on that, at least until you figure out how to change.”
    He faces me forward and tucks me neatly under one arm, which makes me feel like some sort of pet. The moon peers down at us as we ride the swells for a little while. In the distance, we can see the faint glow of occasional lightning, but not land.
    When I can’t stand the Chihuahua position anymore, I wriggle loose. He catches me before I go under and pulls me to him so that my nose just grazes his. Above water, it feels like we’re exchanging kilowatts with our touch. Below, all I feel is Galen’s “pulse,” but it feels more like a magnetic force between us. When his fin rubs against my legs, it feels velvety, like the wings of a stingray instead of scaly like a fish.
    He lets me squirm some distance between us, but doesn’t let go. “If I’m Syrena, then where did I come from?” I say. “My mom doesn’t have the eyes.”
    He nods. “I know. I looked for that.”
    “She hates the water, too. The only reason we live on the beach is because Dad loved it.” In fact, Mom talks about moving farther into town all the time now that Dad’s gone. I finally convinced her to wait until I left for college.
    “And your father?”
    “Blond. Blue eyes. Not as pale as me.”
    “Hmm.” But he doesn’t sound surprised. It sounds more like I confirmed what