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The dark and silent room gave no answers. Was it my room? I had to do something. What was it?
Wake up, maybe. I was floating on my back. The salt water underneath held me up. I floated effortlessly, and I could taste the salt in the air. Far away I heard someone calling my name. Was it my mother again? I didn’t know. I felt unsure of everything.
Where were my mother and father?
Why didn’t they come wake me up? I had to get to practice. I was making great progress with the staff. One day soon we would battle for real. Giancarlo was kind to me, but vicious on the battlefield, people said. I felt a shiver. I sank into the water, opened my mouth, and tasted salt. I felt at home, and swallowed the water eagerly.
No, that wasn’t right. I didn’t swallow the water. I breathed it in. I wasn’t drinking it, I was breathing it, and the water was going, where? My hands reached out and touched my neck. I felt sharp slits there, and water rushing out through them, in my mouth and out of my neck.
Was I a fish? A fish-boy? A mer-boy, rather?
Why wasn’t I upset? I looked at my hands. They were conveniently webbed. I swam swiftly through the water. Never before had I felt so at home. The water was warm, or at least I felt warm in it. I twirled around in the water, flipped, and swam farther. Far off I could see a light down deep in the water...
I wanted to go there, but a voice behind me was calling out a name, my name, Anders Tomason.
I awoke for the second time with the taste of salt still in my mouth.
“Anders, it’s me.”
I opened my eyes.
Kara stood over my bed, looking down at me.
“The council needs you, Anders. They want to see you, the three-blooded prince. They say the Dark Lord is approaching, and he may be strong enough this time to enter the city. They are forging your sword as we speak, but they need the hilt.”
I sat up, and couldn’t keep from groaning. I’d never been this sore.
“Yesterday I was locked in my room with green gunk all over my face, preparing for a birthday banquet. And now, I’m a prince? I mean, I’m sixteen years old and a day.”
Kara sighed. “Look,” she said. “Life has thrown me my share of surprises too. Not all of them pleasant, either. Anyhow, you’ll have a real sword. Isn’t that exciting?”
I smiled wryly. “I just received the wooden one. That was supposed to be my first step to manhood. My face is still pimply. If I get a steel blade, and I become a prince, will my face magically clear up? Will my voice deepen? Will I suddenly grow chest hair? I mean, what are they going to call me, the pimply prince?”
Kara sat down next to me on the bed.
“It doesn’t really look that bad, right now.”
“What?”
“Your face. Maybe if you tried the charcoal soap? Or some goat’s milk?”
“Any other ideas?”
“Well…”
“I was kidding,” I said. “I’m actually sick of talking about it.”
Kara smiled. “You know, a lot of the Kriek have problem skin.”
She put her hand on my shoulder, and I felt suddenly warm in the face. All she had to do was touch me and my stomach started doing flips.
Kara smiled and kissed me lightly on the forehead.
It was fireworks once again. My body was ablaze. I felt her sending me energy through her kiss.
She pulled back and sat there, looking at me silently, waiting for me to speak.
“I just don’t feel ready,” I said finally, surprised I could still speak. “Everything is happening so fast.”
