The blond girl considered it, chewing on her lip, reading the waves. Finally, in answer, she began unlacing her dress’s bodice.
The boy sat on the sand behind the girls, playing the piccolo so they’d think he was distracted, not paying an inch of attention to them as they stripped to their petticoats. Even in surreptitious glances, their shoulders and arms were things of beauty, smooth as the marble statues his mother had commissioned for the tulip garden. So beautiful they made his cheeks hot. He knew he should not look—it wasn’t right, not at the age they were getting to be—but still, he watched.
The blond girl watched back, her eyes finding him, cheeks pinking as her clothes fell to the sand. The raven-curled girl thwacked her on the shoulder, dark eyes big and knowing. No secrets between friends, except those in plain sight.
When the girls were ready, they stood, dresses neatly folded, and pointed slim fingers toward the sea.
On the count of three, they were gone.
5
IDON’T BELIEVE IN MERMAIDS.IDON’T.THEY ARE JUSTan abomination ancients like Tante Hansa dream up to keep children from doing especially dim-witted things.If you touch that hot pot... if you eat that whole cake... if you take that candy... the mermaids will steal you away.We’re superstitious, children of the sea, but we’re not gullible.
Mermaids don’t exist.
But I know what I saw. I knowwhoI saw.
Nik, for his part, doesn’t seem to remember much. He thinks I rescued him. He thinks I sang to him.
It’s been more than a day, and I still haven’t told him that he’s lost his mind if he thinks that’s what happened. Mostly because I don’t have an answer to what really did. None of it makes any sense.
No, I don’t believe in mermaids.
But I do have a strong belief in friendship—more than anything in this world.
I believed it with Anna.
And I believe it with Nik.
Iker—I don’t know what to think of Iker, though he’s standing right before me on the royal dock, borrowed crew packing a borrowed ship behind him.
“Come—the sea calls.” Iker brushes away a few of my curls and cups his hand about my ear as if to amplify the sea’s ancient voice. He leans down, his cheek brushing right against mine, his lips warm next to my skin as he whispers, “Evelynnnnn.”
His enthusiasm makes my heart skip, and I wish I could go, but Father is leaving this morning as well, and he hates the idea of me being aboard a different ship while he is at sea too. He’s superstitious to a fault, even if it’s just for a quick trip up the Jutland and back before Sankt Hans Aften and the opening of the Lithasblot festival. Iker is enchanted by sightings of a large whale—one that would feed Rigeby Bay for weeks in both meals and trade. I hate it, but I know Iker must go—the seafaring season waits for no one, not even a prince.
“I’m so very sorry to disappoint,” I say. And I am. This time with him has been strangely magical, even if all we’ve done is sit with Nik, telling stories to make him smile as he recovers.
“Too late, the sea is already disappointed—your skills during the storm were top-notch. You’re a sailor she needs upon her waves.” His eyes flash, the curve of his mouth serious. Vulnerable, even, as strange as that is. But I don’t—I can’t—let myself think that it’s he who needs me and not the sea. Reality doesn’t work that way.
“The sea will have to wait.”
“And so will I.” He bends down to kiss me then, and though it’s the second time, it’s still a shock—a deep dive into ice-capped waters.
“You don’t have to go,” I say when we part, my voice small and slurred.
“What’s that?” he says, pretending not to have heard. “You don’t have to stay?”
He grabs my hand in both of his and begins to tug me toward the ship, full of crew waiting for his instruction. “Splendid, let’s get going—you steer; I’ll sip portvin and keep an eye out for the whale.”
I laugh and let him tug me a little farther up the gangplank than I should. In my heart, I don’t believe in Father’s superstitions. And yet I have superstitions of my own. Nik is still recovering. I can’t leave. What if he took a turn for the worse while I was gone?
No, I must stay.
Iker will come back. He says he will.
I know he will.
Something changed that night on the steamer. Moreduring the storm than in the huddled moments before—we’d seen each other in our element. The salt of the sea, the both of us. And despite choosing to stay, it is the very last thing I want Nik to know about. Most especially the kissing. But it shouldn’t be too hard to keep a secret from my best friend—after all, I’ve been keeping my magic from Nik his whole life.
