generation.”
“My, how fascinating,” whispered Viola, turning curious
eyes on him.
“My parents never had another successful birth after me,”
said the merman, his frown deep.
“Do you think that you might be able to figure out what’s
been causing these problems for the mermaids?” Tempest
asked, slipping her hand into Reed’s. “The Cascadia pod has
been unable to contact any other merfolk for over a decade.
They are in danger of going extinct if they do not find a way to
reverse this conception problem.”
Her sisters exchanged a look, their eyebrows and lips
moving in rapid succession as she and the merfolk watched.
They had always had a sort of silent form of communication,
being so completely on the same wavelength and understanding each other completely.
Tempest had been wildly jealous of it as a teen. In this
moment, though, it meant that the two could come to a decision amongst themselves without words. Reed’s strong hand
squeezed hers reassuringly as they waited for the verdict. After several drawn out minutes, Zinnia spoke. “We would
love to help.”
“Oh, thank the stars,” Celeste breathed a sigh of relief. “We will need to see as many of your pod as you can
convince to come to shore,” Viola said matter-of-factly. “To rule
out additional factors and see what is affecting all of you.” “Lady Serena will not like that one bit,” whined Lumina,
pouting at her twin.
“But they could heal us!” said Celeste, her tone full of awe. Zinnia held up both hands. “We can’t make any promises.
But I can assure you that we will do our best to get you
answers.”
“Thank you, sisters,” Tempest nearly cried. “This means the
world to them. To us.”
Just before the sun disappeared completely behind the
horizon, the two blonde-haired mermaids dove back into the
