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“I just like watching,” Merletta shrugged.
Her eyes were indeed on the relay race being swum before her. Felix had just completed his lap of the course, and was floating at the finish line, partway across the Center’s drop off, where the events were held. He caught her eye, and she returned his wave with a smile.
“Really?” The snide voice from behind made all three trainees turn. Unnoticed, Oliver had drifted up behind them, and he was giving Merletta his usual disdainful look. “I thought you’d want to be front and center, make the most of your newfound fame.”
Merletta scowled at him. When she’d started in the program, Oliver had mainly been content to ignore her. But now that he’d passed his third year test, and had earned his place as the program’s only current fourth year, he seemed to have gained confidence in his superiority.
“I’m amazed you haven’t found a way to draw attention to yourself yet,” Oliver went on. “Or are you still waiting for the ideal moment, when you can have the most witnesses as you regurgitate your lunch and faint dramatically?”
“That’s out of line, Oliver.” Andre’s snapped retort took Merletta aback. The first year trainee was usually so respectful of all his peers, especially those older than him.
Oliver raised an eyebrow, cold fury radiating from him. Clearly he had also been stunned by the outburst from someone below him in the Center’s hierarchy.
“Watch yourself, Skulssted,” he hissed. Without another word, he swam away, his deep blue tail flicking angrily as he went.
Merletta and Sage exchanged startled glances as Andre glared after Oliver.
“You know,” the younger trainee growled, “I think some of the others saw the whole memorial as a bit of a joke. I bet it would be different if it had been a Hemssted guard patrol instead of a Skulssted one.”
“I don’t think he meant to disrespect the memorial,” Merletta said mildly. “Just me.”
Andre just shrugged a shoulder, and Merletta subsided into her own thoughts. Oliver’s words had been meant as pointless malice, she was sure. But they had actually reminded her of a task left undone. She had determined, when last on Vazula, to start encouraging others to ask questions of the Center. And she hadn’t yet done it. In fact, she’d more or less continued to keep her head down, too focused on helping Sage study for her imminent third year test, and on training hard for her own test, which would be held only a couple months later. She felt a tiny spurt of guilt at the memory of Heath’s plea—he would no doubt wish her to do something like what Oliver sarcastically accused her of plotting. She shook off the thought, holding in a snort at the absurdity of feeling guilty for not making a childish scene. Surely that can’t have been what Heath meant.
But one thing she had determined to do, and today might be a good opportunity for it, with so many of the triple kingdoms’ residents gathered. For the rest of the afternoon, she scanned the crowds. She knew it wasn’t the case for everyone, but in her case, the excellent memory that had won her a place in the program extended to faces. She knew she’d recognize the mermaid she sought if she saw her.
But by the time the festival games were packed away, she’d circled the entire drop off, and seen no sign of her quarry.
“Andre,” she asked, as the Center dwellers and other invitees began to drift toward the complex, ready to partake in the Center’s exclusive Founders’ Day feast, “I don’t see August’s widow here. The one who received the conch shell at the memorial.”
Andre’s face fell slightly. “I don’t think she comes to things like this anymore. She’s still pretty devastated, you know. Keeps to herself mainly, from what my father says.”
Merletta thought this over, frowning. “I don’t feel right about feasting while she’s grieving all alone,” she said. “Do you think you could tell me where she lives? I passed out at the memorial before I got the chance to pay my respects.”
Andre looked startled, and Sage shot Merletta a sharp look.
“You want to visit her?” the first year asked. “Now?”
Merletta nodded. “Do you think that’s too disrespectful?”
“Noooo,” said Andre, drawing out the word. “Not disrespectful, but…won’t it make you late for the feast?”
“I don’t care about the feast,” said Merletta, with perfect truth. The more she thought about her idea, the better it seemed to be. She could speak with the bereaved mermaid without fear of being overheard. Everyone important, from the Record Master down to the lowliest Center guard not currently on duty, would be at the Founders’ Day feast.
“Well, I don’t mind showing you where she lives,” said Andre, still seeming surprised by the request.
“Can’t you just tell me?” Merletta asked. “I don’t mean to pull you away from the feast.”
Andre shook his head. “You don’t know the neighborhood. I doubt I could give clear enough directions for you to find the right house. Plus,” he added frankly, “she knows me. I want to be the one to knock on the door, to make sure she’s willing to receive visitors.”
“That’s fair,” admitted Merletta. After all, the feast hadn’t actually started yet. If they swam quickly, Andre could show her the way and be back before it was truly underway.
“I’m coming too,” said Sage.
The look she cast at Merletta said plainly that she was coming to keep an eye on her friend rather than give her condolences to the widow. Merletta grimaced at the other mermaid, but didn’t protest.
They turned, changing direction so that instead of entering the Center, they swam back across the drop off, toward Skulssted. They had almost reached the Center’s receiving hall when another figure glided up alongside Sage.
“Going for a swim to clear the head? Mind if I join?”
