Pretty in Pearls: A Forgive My Fins Novella (HarperTeen Impulse) (2 page)

“Well, well,” a male voice says, interrupting whatever Riatus was going to say, “if it isn’t my old friend Riatus. It’s been, what? A year?”

I see Riatus stiffen—his shoulders straighten and his jaw tightens. Slowly he turns to face the merman who is entering the stall from the other side.

He’s a year or two older than Riatus, around twenty or twenty-one. And there is something . . . unsettling about him. What is it? His tail fin is nothing unusual—a steely gray with no scars or markings. His hair is also gray. A soft gray he was born with, not that he earned with age. It’s not quite short, but it’s not long either. Like maybe he’s only been growing it out for a little while.

He’s wearing a dark jacket with lots of pockets and military details. A few ratty tears give him a tough look, but that isn’t anything you couldn’t get at any of five clothing shops in town.

“A year
exactly
,” Riatus says, with little warmth in his voice. “What are you doing here, Prax?”

Maybe not such a good friend after all.

“I heard you were back in town,” Prax says with a disarming smile. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’m sure you have.”

“And don’t tell me,” Prax says turning to face me, “this is Coral all grown-up.”

There is something too familiar about his expression—way too familiar for anyone who confuses me for Coral. Behind him, I see Riatus’s jaw clench even tighter. Whatever Prax is to him, he’s not thrilled for him to be here.

Or for Prax to be paying attention to his sister.

Coral smacks him on the shoulder. “
I’m
Coral,” she says. “That’s Peri. She’s my brother’s friend. How come we’ve never met?”

“How come indeed?” Prax muses. “Let’s remedy that right now. I’m Praxis Hake.”

He extends his hand and, when she takes it, bows low before her. I try to meet Riatus’s gaze and roll my eyes, but he is staring daggers into Prax’s back.

“I’m Coral Vulsella.” Her smile lights up the whole market.

Riatus’s scowl could blow the whole place up.

“Excuse me, young man,” a customer says, oblivious to the tense scene playing out here as she taps Riatus on the shoulder. “Could you help me choose a selection of pink pearls for my granddaughter’s first necklace?”

“Of course, ma’am,” he says, shedding his black mood in an instant. He turns to Coral. “Show her the Conch Shell Pink collection.”

When she starts to argue, he adds, “Please.”

“Fine,” she says with a huff before swimming away.

The moment she is on the other side of the stall, he’s in Prax’s face.

“Leave. Her. Alone.”

I shiver at the menace in his tone, and it’s not even directed at me. For a girl without an older brother, it’s exhilarating to see one so protective of his baby sister. I appreciate that, even if I don’t understand what’s going on here.

Maybe it’s that Prax is several years older than Coral. Or maybe it’s a guy thing, that they don’t like friends hitting on their sisters. Who knows?

Prax lifts both hands in surrender. “I was just being nice. Don’t go all great white on me.”

“I don’t care,” Riatus snaps. “Coral is off-limits.”

“Whatever, man.” Prax smirks as he shrugs nonchalantly. His gaze drifts to me and his smile deepens. “Seems like you’re surrounded by lovely, delicate merladies. I’m just trying to even the numbers.”

Me? Delicate? Hardly.

With a single kick, Riatus shifts his position to place me kind of behind him—to place himself between me and Prax.

“Leave Peri out of this, too.”

“Look, I can take a hint,” Prax says, floating back. He looks at me over Riatus’s shoulder. “Nice to meet you, Peri. I hope we run into each other again
soon
.”

I smile because I’m not sure what the right response is. Clearly Riatus has a problem with him, but I don’t know what. Prax nods and then, before I can figure out if I should say something, anything, he swims away.

Riatus turns to face me with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s no big deal,” I say. “Obviously you have a history and—”

“Ri, which ones are South Pacific,” Coral calls out, “and which ones are Indian Ocean?”

“Just a sec,” he answers over his shoulder. Then, to me, “I’d better help her.”

“Yeah, I need to get going anyway,” I say quickly. “With all of Mom’s preparations for the Sea Harvest Dance, I’m sure I’ll be around again soon.”

Even if she doesn’t need me to visit.

“I’m counting on it,” he says.

I can’t quite bring myself to swim away just yet, letting my eyes follow him across the stall. Which means I’m caught staring when he turns back around. “Hey,” he says with a half smile, “I’ll bubble message you.”

“Great!”

As Riatus swims away to help Coral with the customer, I’m overflowing with excitement. When I left home this morning, I had no idea what the market would have in store for me. I’m not usually a big fan of surprises. This kind, though, I could get used to.

    
2

Two weeks later

N
ormally I can’t think of anything better than spending a day shopping in the market with my best friend. Especially with the Sea Harvest Dance only two weeks away. Stall owners are quick to pull out their very best offerings to tempt the princess, hoping to present something she might want to eat, wear, or show off on a shelf.

To them she is the future queen.

To me she will always be Lily.

But today, the market is the last place I want to be. I only agreed to come so I wouldn’t have to explain why.

“Oh my gosh, Peri, look at this,” Lily says, swimming into a stall of silks imported from the Indian Ocean. I give it a less than a minute before the owner realizes the princess is in his stall.

She pulls a silk off the rack. A ribbon of soft orange ripples in the current, the gold trim and beaded embroidery glittering as it catches the sunlight filtering down from the surface.

“It’s beautiful.” I catch the cloth between my fingers. “High-quality, too.”

“You should buy it,” she says, holding it up next to my face.

I make a face and shake my head.

“It’s perfect for your coloring.” She gives me that sunny grin that no one can deny. “You have to.”

Maybe she’s right, but it’s not my favorite color. I’m shaking my head when the owner appears from behind another rack.

“Welcome, welcome,” he says. “What brings you to—oh!”

Thirty whole seconds. I bite back a smile. Here we go.

He bows deeply, displaying his balding head. “Princess,” he says, his voice full of reverence, “it is an honor.”

“Thank you,” Lily replies. “Your silks are beautiful.”

He whips upright. “These are nothing. Let me show you my special collection.”

In a flash, he’s gone, diving behind the counter to find the best silks to show the princess. Lily gives me an apologetic look. She gets embarrassed by the attention, but after a lifetime of being her friend, I’m used to it. Mom and I have been buying silks for her dressmaking business from Mr. Egregia forever. He hasn’t even noticed I’m in the stall.

Such is the life of a princess’s best friend.

“Ah, yes,” he exclaims, popping up from behind the counter with an armful of fabric. “Here we go.”

Lily and I swim over to the counter as he lays them out. They are truly breathtaking. There is a shiny one—cross woven with lime green and gold—that would match Lily’s tail fin perfectly. Mom would love the lavender one embroidered with white and purple flowers. But me? I reach for the ivory silk. It looks ordinary at first glance, just a stretch of off-white cloth. But as the current catches it, the fabric ripples and the glittery finish catches the light. A sparkling dream.

“Wow, that’s amazing,” Lily says, swimming over to take a closer look.

“The lady has excellent taste,” Mr. Egregia says, finally looking at me. “Ah, Miss Wentletrap. I should have known.”

His smile is broad and genuine.

“Hello, Mr. Egregia.” I lift the glittery silk. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Silica-infused dupioni,” he says, confirming my hunch.

“The process to make this is so involved,” I explain to Lily, “they only make twenty yards a year.”

“And I have secured ten of them,” he boasts.

“You’re holding out on my mom,” I tease. “You know she loves this fabric.”

“It arrived but yesterday.” He looks flustered, like he thinks I’m actually mad. “I would sell to none other.”

Sometimes it backfires when I try for sarcasm. I should probably stop trying. I give him a reassuring smile. “She will be so happy.”

He looks relieved.

“I think I have to buy this one,” Lily says, pointing at the green-and-gold I knew she would love. “Can you have it sent to the palace?”

Mr. Egregia bows again. “It would be an honor.”

Moments later the arrangements are made and Lily and I are swimming off in search of another treasure.

“Where do you want to go next?” she asks.

“This is your shopping expedition,” I reply, linking my arm through hers. “Where do
you
want to go?”

“Hmmmm, let me see . . . ”

Her voice has that high, singsongy quality that indicates trouble brewing. I brace myself.

“How about Paru’s Pearls?” she suggests. “I’m sure we could find
something
to look at there.”

I knew this was coming. When Lily asked me to go shopping—not normally on her top thousand things to do—I had a feeling she was up to something. Now I know.

“That’s all the way on the other side of the market,” I argue. “We should just work our way over there.”

Lily huffs. “But what if they sell out?”

“They won’t,” I insist.

She gives me a pleading look. “They might.”

“They literally have
barrels
of pearls.” I stare straight ahead, determined not to let her puppy-dog face sway me. “They won’t sell out.”

She unlinks our arms and turns to face me, arms crossed over her chest. The determined look in her eyes worries me. A determined Lily is not easily discouraged. Just ask Brody—the boy she crushed on for three long years before realizing that Quince was her true love.

“What’s going on?” she demands.

I feign ignorance. “What do you mean?’

“I mean,” she says, lowering her voice as she swims closer, “that two weeks ago you were all swoony over . . . Paru’s Pearls, and now you’re acting like you don’t even want to . . . check out their stock.”

“Their stock?” I echo with a half laugh.

She scowls. “You know what I mean.”

I do—and we both know we’re not talking about pearls—but that doesn’t mean I want to talk about it. She’s my best friend and I talk to her about everything. Almost everything. Not this.

A lot can happen in two weeks. A lot can change.

“Really, Lily,” I say, swimming back a few inches, acting like I simply want to keep shopping, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. You’ve been spending too much time on land. It’s like you’re speaking a foreign language.”

I swim off before she can respond, heading for the nearest stall as cover. Because the truth is, I know exactly what—exactly
who
—she’s talking about. And the last thing I want to talk about is him.

Three hours, eighteen stalls, matching beaded braids, and a very full lunch later, my time runs out. I knew I could only delay for so long, that eventually we would make our way to this back corner of the market.

If nothing else, I knew Lily would make sure we did.

As we kick into Paru’s Pearls, a stall overflowing with iridescent orbs, my stomach does a triple flip. One flip of excitement to see what new pearls will be on display. One flip of excitement to see him. A final flip of dread that he will act just as casually uninterested as he has the last five times I visited the stall.

You’d think I would stop coming.

But no, I’m a glutton for punishment, it seems. Especially if that punishment involves getting to look at him for even a few seconds.

“You want to tell me what happened?” Lily asks as we float over to the nearest display.

I trace my fingers over the field of pale blue pearls. “Not really.”

“Come on,” Lily urges, swimming close enough to whisper. “I can’t help if I don’t know what happened. And because right now, to be honest, you’re acting a little crazy.”

I
am
acting crazy. What is wrong with me? I’m usually a very together sort of mergirl. That’s why I’m Lily’s emissary—basically her personal assistant—because I can keep my head on straight and make sure she knows everything she needs to know before state events.

This? Freaking out over a boy and feeling completely adrift? This is not normal Peri behavior.

Neither is thinking about myself in the third person. I need serious intervention. No, I need to tell my best friend what’s happened.

I draw in a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. She’s going to find out eventually. I might as well get it over with.

In a tight whisper, I begin, “Well, you know I’ve had a crush on Riatus for, like, ever.”

Lily nods enthusiastically.

“Two weeks ago,” I continue, “when he was first back from his swim around the world, it seemed like he was finally going to see me as something other than the little mergirl who shopped in his stall. It seemed like he might actually be interested in me, like he might actually ask me to the Sea Harvest Dance. My dreams were finally coming true.”

“I know,” Lily says too loudly. I glare at her and she continues at a lower volume, “You seemed so happy. So excited. I knew it was something good.”

“Right,” I say, my shoulders slumping. “Then the next time I went back, it was like an iceberg crashed into his heart. He wasn’t rude or anything; he was just . . . polite. Distant. Like we’d never met.”

“Like how?”

“Like . . . he smiled politely, chatted politely, helped me—”

“Politely?” she suggests.

“Yes,” I say. “He’s been exactly the same ever since.”

“That’s so weird,” she says.

Don’t I know it?

No bubble message. No date to the dance. No acknowledgment that maybe, for a moment, he kind of thought he might be interested in me as more than a mergirl who shops in his stall. Nothing.

“Well, forget him. He doesn’t deserve you,” Lily says, cheering me like only a best friend can. “You’re so much better than him.”

“I know,” I say in a small voice.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t still want to know why, doesn’t mean I don’t still want
him
. I sigh again.

“Don’t let him ruin our expedition,” she says, swimming into the stall. “You love pearl shopping.”

She’s right. But for today, I can abstain. I keep to the edge, hoping that maybe I’ll be able to see him without him noticing me.

“Peri?” a male voice says from right behind me.

Great. Clearly that hope was futile.

I wish my skin didn’t tingle at the sound of him saying my name. I wish I could remember how he’s all but ignored me since that first meeting that had seemed so . . . promising. I wish I could think about anything other than the fact that I can feel his warmth, even through the chilly water.

Time to be a big girl. I paste a friendly smile on my face and turn to face him. “Hi, Riatus.”

Those pale silver eyes seem to glow as they watch me. But his mouth is pursed slightly, like he’s irritated that I’m here.

Well, I’m irritated that he’s irritated.

I don’t know what I did or what made him change his mind about me, but it’s pretty hard to ditch feelings for someone just because they lose interest.

Which is why my heart is beating faster than normal.

For an instant, I see something in his pale eyes that is far from disinterest. Then it’s gone and he’s back to the vaguely charming boy who treats me like nothing more than just another customer.

“What can I help you with today?” he asks.

I force my fake smile to get even bigger. “Just browsing. Thanks.”

“Come look at these, Peri,” Lily calls out from across the stall.

I brush past him. “Excuse me.”

Joining Lily at a tray full of the whitest pearls I have ever seen, I feign interest in the display, doing my best to ignore Riatus.

“Aren’t they gorgeous?” Lily asks, waving her fingers over the pearls.

“They’re called Arctic Ice.” I pick one up for a closer look. “They’re harvested in Glacialis.”

Lily and I visited the northernmost kingdom in the Western Atlantic once on an official mission, and I did all of the background research. I’d been fascinated to learn about the pearls, known to be the purest white in all the seven seas.

They are so bright they are rumored to glow like a beacon in the dark.