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“Yes, my mates are rather handsome.”
The old male chuckles and takes us to our table. It’s the same one tucked back into an alcove that we sat at last time.
The waiter pours us seaweed gin and brings Belle a glass of wine. But when he’s gone, she switches Eros’s gin with her wine. She holds up her glass. “To the best family a girl could ever hope for. I love you all. Salvomaris.” Cheers, she says in Dorian.
The table next to us coos. They raise their glasses to us. “Salvomaris.”
A male at the next table stands. “To the savior of Doria.”
Soon the entire restaurant is standing, glasses in hand. Everyone knows it’s Belle who found out the secret of the Braesen. Without her, they would have continued to try and bring down our democracy.
She smiles and waves around the room. And I think about the woman she was when she first came on board the Centauri. That woman wouldn’t have taken a compliment. She would have shaken it off. But our mermaid? She’s the same woman but more of herself. I look over at her. I have no right to be proud. I am, though. I’m so damn proud.
Nico leans over and fingers the ribbon in her hair before giving her a quick kiss behind her ear.
After the first course, an older mermaid comes over to our table. “The Savior of Doria, the Hero of Hestertåtten, the Golden Prince, the Second Coming of Poseidon, and...” She looks at Eros.
“Eros, mate to Sunshine.”
“That’s a good title,” the mermaid says.
“I think so too.” Eros laughs with the older mermaid.
“Is there any news on the geminae mermaids?” Belle takes a sip of her gin and coughs. Eros switches her back to wine.
“They’re females,” I say.
“I bet not. I have one little gene and I’m a mermaid, but those innocent podlets certainly have more mermaid DNA than I do. And I have a tail now.” She smiles and takes a delicate sip of wine. But then she pauses. “Castor, did you ever think that Marlee looks a heck of a lot like––”
“Like the painting of the grand dame duchess Theodora Drakos, the one that hangs in the front foyer of my parent’s apartment?”
Belle raises her glass. “Yes, exactly. My grandmother was born in North Carolina and moved to North Dakota with her parents when she was little. From the old pictures I’ve seen, she doesn’t look anything like her parents. Not that it means anything, but do you think . . . do you think she was a geminae podlet?”
The table is silent. “Maybe,” I say.
“And I could be a granddaughter of one of the original podlets taken to America.” Her hands move rapidly and her words are rushed. I love Belle, but an excited Belle is even more captivating. “The scientist who found the gene... the one still on the Omicron . . . Bacchus?” Belle pauses.
The table nods in confirmation. He’s an arrogant prick, but he’s been stuck on a sub dealing with the Timon governor and the Skyrothasia mess for a hell of a long time.
“With Bacchus’s help,” she continues, “we––I could trace the gene back to a common ancestor. Here in the city.”
“Mateo Bacchus—he’s from Glyden. An ass, but brilliant. He could help you,” I say. “If the Omicron ever docks again.”
“It better,” says Belle. “Nole’s mate Sara has had enough. But I’d like to work with Mateo on that. There could be thousands of women walking around with the gene. I suppose as long as they don’t mate a merman, they’ll be safe from dying in the shower like I almost did. But we have to study it. We have to find these females, both little and big, and keep them safe.”
“You will. We’ll be there to help you.” Eros raises his glass. “To our brilliant mate. We are lucky to have her, but so is our nation. Salvomaris.” We clink glasses around the table. But Belle’s brain is still spinning.
“What is it?” I ask.
“And there’s no records of where Fero took his podlets? None at all?” The media has been referring to the podlets by the name of each male who saved them: Fero, Ziad before him, and Driss who was the first to save the little podlets.
Nico shakes his head. “I asked Atlas. Fero is working with them, but the haggisa who adopted the podlets out to human families is nowhere to be found. Ziad and Driss left no records and are long gone.”
“They can’t find Fero’s haggisa contact?” Belle asks.
Nico nods at Belle. “When a sea witch wants to hide, there’s nothing you can do to find them. But they are going to continue looking.”
“Oh.”
