“Ateeee!”

My earliest memory was that our house was blue.

It was the only house in the village with wood panel walls. The roof was made of crisp-fringed sheet metal and we had clotheslines strung all about. Our house may have been all by itself at the end of the road but it was on a cliff by the sea. It was perfect because father’s boat could be anchored in the backyard. Ma’am had spent her whole life waiting for a home like this.

“I’m coming!” Coraline ran out from the house with a basket. She was four and not that much older than me. “Let’s collect sea shells!”

I nodded eagerly. That sounded like the funnest adventure.

“Coraline, Rocca! You have to wait for me!” our auntie called from inside the house.

It was barely after lunch and the sky was dark. I hadn’t suspected much of it at the time. But even I felt something odd when the wind picked up, wrestling our drying garments out from the clotheslines. Auntie came to the door.

“It looks like there’ll be a storm,” she said, “You girls will have to play inside.”

“Awwwww no!” Coraline whined. It suddenly became very dark as the gusts blew and I’d look to the sky.

Something huge passed overhead, something like a snake. I’d seen the underbelly of a thousand muddy, chipped scales bigger than my own head. I then heard something so bone chilling that it haunts me today. The low hum of a thousand shell horns bellowing at once. An emergency siren so eerily beautiful that I was overcome with tears.

Then the sound was shorn apart.

In its place, a sickening screech. Coraline ran for me, grabbing my hand as I turned to the ocean. I’d only seen it in the distance, but I could tell it was hundreds of times bigger than my own blue house. Cracks of it glowed like molten lava.

And then ‘it’ took a step closer in our direction.

The sea rose, and a giant wave collected just beyond the shore. Our auntie screamed as it came crashing for us. The water slammed down, cold and sharp like a million knives—

I gasped and lurched up, my heart stomping in my chest. I was covered in a thick layer of sweat. Crap, crap, crap. I can’t believe I had to remember that damn day again. I teetered, dizzy from sitting up so suddenly. I balanced my head in my hands and attempted to upright the world.

My fingers traced over the skin below my eyes. It was rigid and scabby. No no no no no. I got up and made for the fence—

Something snagged my wrist just as I reached it…a warm hand, but I was too afraid to let them see me. I kept my free hand over my eyes.

Wait, I recognized this large hand. Chid.

“What are you doing?” he hissed. For a moment I peeked between my fingers at the row of sleeping mermaids. The only thing occupying our mats were tossed blankets.

(Don’t look at me,) I signed with my free hand, keeping my face pointed at the sea.

“Will you just—” He locked my arms to my side and forced me to turn around. I couldn’t help it and closed my eyes, turned away as much as I could. But now he’s seen it. He was so quiet that I feared his reaction.

He let go in surprise and I covered my eyes once more.

“Don’t tell anyone.” I hissed.

“…Why?” he asked. “What’s to tell?”

I released my hands, only to swirl my fingers around my face. (Me, ugly.)

He squinted at me. “Are you ashamed that you’re a mermaid?”

“…No. I just…” I found Lori’s pocketwatch hanging from his wrist and opened it to the mirror on the opposite side of the cover. As I’d feared, lime green scales winked at me, bursting from my eyes. “I don’t…want…anyone to see me like this.”

I took a breath, burying the shake in my voice.

“I’ll take the rest of your shift and mine for lookout. You can sleep.”

He stared at me and my scales hard. “I’m not going to blackmail you into doing my duties.”

I was about to shout. (WILL), I slashed my palm from my face, (YOU), I slammed a finger at him¸(JUST), just as I cranked my finger in the air, he slipped off his mask and shoved it onto my face. My hands hurried to catch it and put it in place.

He turned to the floor, bashful, as I stared plainly at his face for the very first time.

So he’s good looking…almost up there with Cal. Harsh, sharp eyes. A wide nose. Same full lips that’d been scowling at me since day one. But his scales…

They swept over his eyes, down his cheeks…A green so deep, it was more like black in this scarce light. The furious white stripes I’d seen on his tail repeated on his face like scars, even accenting his eyes. I found myself staring longer than I meant to. How hypnotic.

“…You can wear that until it’s Cal’s turn.” He muttered, turning away to his mat. I readjusted the mask and tied it properly around my head.

“…Thanks,” I muttered, though he completely ignored me and welcomed his sleep. I took the pocket watch to the remains of the campfire and sighed.

I thought too long on the fact that he gave me his precious mask…the one he has not once removed since orientation. Not when our teachers asked, or upperclassmen, or even Commander Lori.

I began to understand why he wore it the longer I heard bristles in the night. Those sounds, those paranoiac suggestions of a monster…

They no longer scared me.

* * *

I awoke the next morning to the other pods bustling about and making preparations. My hands flew to my face. I felt around—dolphin smooth. Oh thank god.

“Looks like you’re back to a plain face,” Chickpea said from beside me as he rolled up his mat.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I said monotonously.

I was one of the last to wake up. Once I was done stuffing everything into my rucksack, I tiptoed over to Tima and gently tapped her with my foot.

“Psst,” I hissed loudly, “Everyone’s getting ready to leave.”

HOOOOOOOOONK!, Commander Lori’s shell horn tore through camp.

“POD!” she screamed. “Line up!”

Tima lurched up with a face full of panic. We scrambled into line, straight as a nail. Everyone was tense, fully aware that something must’ve gone wrong if Lori was already this mad.

“I was woken up at a strange hour.” She said, pacing along the line. “I was woken up a whole hour early. I wonder why? Hmmm? Any suggestions?” She scanned the line. I stared forward, trying to think of what’d gone wrong. “Isn’t it obvious? SOMEONE SKIMPED OUT ON LOOK OUT DUTY.”

She sharply turned to me. My eyes widened.

“If it was you, come forward now and the rest of the pod won’t suffer.” Lori said it as if only to me. I knew it wasn’t true. I was up an extra 45 minutes when I took Chickpea’s shift.

When no one came forward, Lori spun her pink coral rod around loosely.

“Okay? No one wants to admit it. Got it.”

She threw it—crap! Tima and I broke apart, barely dodging it. The rod flew to the edge of the cliff and clipped the wooden fence. Unfortunately it didn’t fall off the side, so someone would be getting hit with it soon.

“I’m going to track down this deserter, and they’re going to pay.” Lori hissed. “We’re a team. If someone isn’t pulling their weight, we’re all screwed. NOW GET PACKED!”

We scattered and returned to our bags. I sighed and rearranged my things, trying to keep myself busy before Lori inevitably singled me out again. Chickpea was all packed up and shouldered his bag.

I stared past his mask holes, my eyes wandering over the very little scale still visible. Last night was so fresh in my mind it burned my chest. Too much of his contradicting words and actions fought in my head, attempting to determine if he was truly an ally.

“…You never answered the ice breaker from last night,” I said as I stood up with my filled rucksack. “Who’d you work for? If…if you could choose.”

He stared at me, his mask sharp but his eyes dull. And so I was unable to make of his clearly cryptic answer. “The most powerful fool in this country, obviously. The Prince.”

* * *

Dear Rocca,

Your weekend excursion sounded interesting. Us grownups working for nobles don’t get that kind of time to get to know each other. But, it’s crucial for a close knit team. I hope you made the most of your time.

I know it must be awful right now, waiting for the odd man out to reveal themselves. Have you ever thought how they might be feeling now? There’s no relief to you being the scapegoat. You’re smart, and you have an alibi. Use this to your advantage.

You asked me about ulterior motives. I’ve thought it through as I don’t want you to get discouraged. But yes. Everyone has ulterior motives. Up here in the capital of Berdeng Da Gat, you wouldn’t believe what some people would do to get their way. From the most respected noble to their chambermaid.

It’s not to say that all motives are bad. What motives do we have, writing each other? You, you seek my advice. Have you ever wondered what I get out of this? I’ll be honest. I worry for you. So having you write me so frequently puts me at ease, and I’m able to face Pom with confidence.

Ulterior motives are not necessarily a bad thing.

Perhaps that’s something you can acquire to your advantage—instead of trying to overcome your enemies with strength you don’t currently have, why don’t you invest in exploiting their motives?

And do tell me how it goes.

xE