house. I’d never met the elusive Mr Robinson before, nor had I heard of anyone who’d seen him personally.
“My father,” she snorted, making air quotes with her fingers, “ ‘His Majesty King Dorian Ocean Kai Whitecrest of the Oceanids’ needs to know how emergency situations are handled.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure we’ll be summoned soon to hear what he thinks in person, but for now I’m supposed to report important things like this to him. Princessly duty,” she scoffed.
“So you’re the Princess of the Mermaids?” I asked her. I wondered if I really was dreaming. Everything today had been on the hugest scale possible, it seemed.
“Not as great as you might think,” she muttered, looking tense, “but yes. I’m the heir to the throne.” It was clear that Stacie had a problem with authority, or at least was a bit hostile towards her father. I couldn’t tell which, but regardless, she didn’t seem to like her role. Her birthright explained why she acted so entitled at school, if nothing else.
“Are you going to be in trouble for helping me?” I asked, suddenly feeling anxious. Stacie’s choice to assist me came before she knew the scope of the issue, how dire it was. True, she didn’t seem especially concerned about Rick or Susan personally, but something like this must be cause for a scandal, right? Maybe not. I didn’t know enough about extras, yet.
“No,” she said, inhaling sharply, “not at all. It’s protocol. But if I’d let you just slide past me, under the radar?” She whistled low, “ Big trouble.”
One of the maids walked straight to Stacie and said, “Miss Marin, your father sends word. He knows you’d like to speak with him, and he is available for conference now.”
Stacie scowled and slammed the door behind her, tossing off her coat and leaving it in a heap on the floor. I jumped. My nerves were running high again thinking about speaking with her father, King of the Mermaids.
She waved her hand, gesturing for me to follow her as she stalked down the main corridor.
“What did she call you?” I murmured as we trudged along.
“Marin.”
“Does it mean princess or something?” I asked her.
The tension on her shoulders eased a little. She cracked half a smile, “It’s my name.”
“I thought your name was Stacie?”
“For school, sure. But it’s only Stacie for now, for the human world. I’ll get bored and leave eventually, then come back in a few years with a new name.”
While it was surprising that she used an alias, a different revelation bothered me more. “Why would anyone want to go to high school more than once?” I asked.
She gave me a Cheshire Cat’s grin, “Why would I give that up? It’s like being queen without any of the drawbacks. I rule when I want to, party when I want to, act benevolently when I want to. I can be as just or unjust as I feel.”
“But aren’t you going to be queen anyway?” I asked her.
Her face looked grim, “Yeah… someday . But every day I’m not queen is a good day to me. Besides, I’d never do half the stuff down there that I do in high school. High school doesn’t matter .”
I wondered if that was the tension I’d felt when Stacie— no, Marin!— was told her father wanted to speak. She was reluctant to succeed him, instead opting to be a big fish in a small pond. A surprisingly appropriate metaphor.
We reached the dead end of the hallway. Stacie pressed her hands against the cream colored wallpaper. The paper split, forming a door that swung open, revealing a room. It was round, surrounded entirely by windows, but the moon and stars did little to illuminate the space. Most of the light came from a small white basin atop a pedestal in the center.
Marin tipped the little bottle with her father’s eye scale into the bowl.
Curious, I peered inside the saucer and was shocked to see a face staring back at me, as dimensional and present in the room as Marin and me, but separated from us
“My father,” she snorted, making air quotes with her fingers, “ ‘His Majesty King Dorian Ocean Kai Whitecrest of the Oceanids’ needs to know how emergency situations are handled.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure we’ll be summoned soon to hear what he thinks in person, but for now I’m supposed to report important things like this to him. Princessly duty,” she scoffed.
“So you’re the Princess of the Mermaids?” I asked her. I wondered if I really was dreaming. Everything today had been on the hugest scale possible, it seemed.
“Not as great as you might think,” she muttered, looking tense, “but yes. I’m the heir to the throne.” It was clear that Stacie had a problem with authority, or at least was a bit hostile towards her father. I couldn’t tell which, but regardless, she didn’t seem to like her role. Her birthright explained why she acted so entitled at school, if nothing else.
“Are you going to be in trouble for helping me?” I asked, suddenly feeling anxious. Stacie’s choice to assist me came before she knew the scope of the issue, how dire it was. True, she didn’t seem especially concerned about Rick or Susan personally, but something like this must be cause for a scandal, right? Maybe not. I didn’t know enough about extras, yet.
“No,” she said, inhaling sharply, “not at all. It’s protocol. But if I’d let you just slide past me, under the radar?” She whistled low, “ Big trouble.”
One of the maids walked straight to Stacie and said, “Miss Marin, your father sends word. He knows you’d like to speak with him, and he is available for conference now.”
Stacie scowled and slammed the door behind her, tossing off her coat and leaving it in a heap on the floor. I jumped. My nerves were running high again thinking about speaking with her father, King of the Mermaids.
She waved her hand, gesturing for me to follow her as she stalked down the main corridor.
“What did she call you?” I murmured as we trudged along.
“Marin.”
“Does it mean princess or something?” I asked her.
The tension on her shoulders eased a little. She cracked half a smile, “It’s my name.”
“I thought your name was Stacie?”
“For school, sure. But it’s only Stacie for now, for the human world. I’ll get bored and leave eventually, then come back in a few years with a new name.”
While it was surprising that she used an alias, a different revelation bothered me more. “Why would anyone want to go to high school more than once?” I asked.
She gave me a Cheshire Cat’s grin, “Why would I give that up? It’s like being queen without any of the drawbacks. I rule when I want to, party when I want to, act benevolently when I want to. I can be as just or unjust as I feel.”
“But aren’t you going to be queen anyway?” I asked her.
Her face looked grim, “Yeah… someday . But every day I’m not queen is a good day to me. Besides, I’d never do half the stuff down there that I do in high school. High school doesn’t matter .”
I wondered if that was the tension I’d felt when Stacie— no, Marin!— was told her father wanted to speak. She was reluctant to succeed him, instead opting to be a big fish in a small pond. A surprisingly appropriate metaphor.
We reached the dead end of the hallway. Stacie pressed her hands against the cream colored wallpaper. The paper split, forming a door that swung open, revealing a room. It was round, surrounded entirely by windows, but the moon and stars did little to illuminate the space. Most of the light came from a small white basin atop a pedestal in the center.
Marin tipped the little bottle with her father’s eye scale into the bowl.
Curious, I peered inside the saucer and was shocked to see a face staring back at me, as dimensional and present in the room as Marin and me, but separated from us
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