“What if they’reguardians?”He sweeps a hand across the horizon. “Of the mermaids.”
“Blaze.”
“NO, LISTEN. The ocean is like, seventy percent unexplored. SEVENTY. You’re telling me in all that water there’s not one single smokin’ hot mermaid?”
“I am telling you exactly that.”
“HOLD UP! You’re beautiful, you don’t get seasick, you smell like saltwater even when you’re not wet. Sounds like a mermaid to me.”
“Blaze! Listen carefully. I’m not a mermaid, I’m a lesbian.”
His face cycles through four distinct facial expressions. It settles into a grin so wide it’s almost blinding.
“PLOT TWIST! Okay, FIRST of all, iconic. SECOND, I have, like, millions of gay friends. Hookups? Setups? Name the vibe, I got the squad for it!”
She turns away, smiling despite herself.
I bite back a laugh and keep the shot steady.
Blaze Tate. Forever the wingman. Never the headline in his own love story. Maybe he prefers it that way.
Sienna braces herself on the port rail and points out over the water. “We spotted a pup of ours this morning. We rescued her about four months ago. When we anchored, she was swimming with her mother. I hope they’re still close.”
I punch in on the waterline. The pup rockets from the surface. As if on cue.
ARF. ARF-ARF. BRRRAAF.
“Left ear,” Orson says, binoculars raised. “Yellow tag. That’s confirmed. She’s one of ours.”
The pup disappears.
Surfaces again.
Barks harder.
Faster.
Blaze tilts his head toward the water. “Dr. O, can you translate for us? ’Cause I’m hearing, ‘Hey, new neighbors! Cool boat! Also, GTFO.’”
“It very well could be. Sea lion vocalizations aren’t random, but highly structured communications designed to reinforce social hierarchies—”
“Echols, do you see the mama?” Sienna cuts in.
“Nothing yet.” Orson scans the ocean with his binoculars. “Blaze, I believe I have what you refer to as a ‘fun fact.’ Female sea lions are classified as ‘cows’. They are exceptionally attentive mothers, using unique vocal calls and scent-based recognition to locate their pups.”
The pup dives.
Comes up in the same spot.
BRRAAAF. BRRAAAF. BRRAAAF.
Dives.
Same pattern. Same urgency.
Sienna’s whole body changes. “That’s a distress signal.”
“You’re right.” Orson’s lecture cadence is gone. “Her mother should be alongside her.”
