OVERFALLS (The Merworld Water Wars, Book 2) (39 page)

“Sadly, yes. Still, I don’t think it’s him.”

“Don’t
think
?” Jex quizzed.

“Know. I know it’s not him. Someone planted that card on him.”

“We have no way of knowing, Marina,” said Doctor Tenly. “But…I’m inclined to agree with you. Part of me feels that someone is going out of their way to make Troy look guilty. Granted, his past as the deliverer, his inability to remember what he says while in-demon, and those bizarre disappearances after the first match, the wish ceremony…”

“Oh, those? It’s nothing. Every time he was around the stadium area, he felt demon sparks, so he took off,” said Jex. “He’s who you saw by your cave during the wish ceremony, Marina. The place calms him or something.”

“WHAT?” I roared. “You knew where he was going all this time?”

“Yeah, what of it? He asked me not to say anything.”

“You didn’t think it was just a little important that he was close to tripping out every time he was in the presence of Madame Helena or Queen Zale or whoever might be lurking in the stands, like…”

“The Dealer,” supplied Doctor Tenly.

“Uh, YEAH! Jesus, Jex! This is major. Someone is trying to turn him, permanently.”

Jex stared at me for a moment. “Well, now that you put it that way…”

“Ugh! But who? Madame Bitch? The Dealer? Some deranged agent of The Dealer? The royal psychos?”

“I don’t know. One thing we do know: The Dealer has narrowed down the list of who will die,” said Doctor Tenly, holding up the Joker card with the word ‘
D
eliberating’ written on it.

“Wait! What about the witch? You know who the witch is…what if she’s The Dealer’s agent. She could be framing—”

“It’s not her,” said Doctor Tenly.

“Really? Are you removing Troy from your suspect list?”

“Not yet,” said the doctor.

“Well, if The Dealer could be Troy, then this witch could be his agent.”

“This is fun,” said Jex.

“Jex, leave,” said Doctor Tenly.

“Right, then. It’s about to get dull anyway.” Through the roof he flew.

“Marina, when I feel comfortable telling you about the witch, I will.” For the first time, I noticed how stressed he looked. Doctor Tenly always seemed to offset the stress with his cocky goofiness. Lately, though, he’s been much more severe.

“Are you okay?”

Doctor Tenly glanced at me, surprised. “I’m fine. I’m me.” Ah, hello to the cockiness, even if it was only a peep. “I need to ask you a question.”

“Go for it.”

“What do you know about Trey’s parents?”

Damn. Where’d that come from? “Um, not much. They left him with his grandfather when he was an infant. Does this have something to do with his extra talents?”

“Perhaps, yes. Gully is another mystery to me. Though it appears she has no extra talent beyond her regular gift, there’s something intrinsically unique about how she must keep her hair tied tight. And her brother, Guston…a hider! Those things are so bizarrely rare that a family history would help me understand their origins a bit more.” Doctor Tenly sat on part of a dummy I split in half during training.

“This will probably sound stupid, but…what does it matter? They are what they are, right? Even Trey. Who cares about the origins, at least right now?”

“Marina. That was one of the dumbest things I’ve heard you say, and you’ve said quite a few.”

“Well, I prefaced by saying it would sound stupid. Really didn’t need the extra salt in the wound.”

“Honestly, origins are the catalyst of the future,” he muttered.

“Origins are the…cat’s lisp of the future? What does that mean?” Crap. “What?”

“I was wrong. Not something I often say, but…
that
was, by far, the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you spew. C-a-t-a-l-y-s-t.” This would be a bad time to tell him I can’t spell in my head, but judging by his expression, my face tattled on me. “Catalyst. Catalyst.”

“Okay, okay, I get it. Catalyst. I know the word.”

“Thank Poseidon for small favors,” he said.

“Since our talk has turned into me feeling like a dumb frick, I’m outta here.”

“Marina, one more question…do you know if Trey’s grandfather ever talked with him about his parents?”

“In the early days at Helena’s, Trey once mentioned his grandfather getting angry when he tried to ask about his mother. I guess Mr. Campbell told Trey to forget about his ‘disloyal’ father and ‘disinherited’ mother. And he never asked again.”

Doctor Tenly stared hard at the wall, then at the ceiling. “My God and Poseidon.” He was already halfway up the stairs when he turned to me and urgently added, “Marina, say nothing to Trey. Do you understand me? This is vitally important.”

“Of course, I promise.”

Nodding, he took off, leaving me in the basement to wonder and worry. I may have promised to keep my mouth shut around Trey, but I certainly didn’t promise not to nag Doctor Tenly to kingdom come…or snoop around myself. And when it comes to Trey, me, myself, and I were all in.

Chapter Eighteen

My Very Bloody Valentine

February: Fragile hearts

Monthly Life Caption: Bad things happen in small months

Mood: Unmentionable

Eating: Mostly leafy, some candy

Music: Too embarrassed to mention

I’ve given into my light side. I’m so ashamed. Despite the fact that my boyfriend was a moping mess, my Vomit Day hate has subsided this year. I’m smiling at stuffed cupids, singing to icky-sweet love songs, clapping enthusiastically at the town’s addiction to paper hearts, and even ‘awwing’ over jewelry commercials. Oh God. I might die.

Hosting this year’s Valentine’s Ball was Galeena, goddess of the gnomes. Invitations arrived by messenger gnomes about a week ago. Unfortunately, Mom had been fighting a nasty flu bug, and she wasn’t expecting to find a gnome in the bushes when she upchucked on her way to the car. He managed to issue our invitation and even recited Galeena’s request for attendees to wear beige or green gowns…before he passed out, covered in puke. Airianna hurried over to hose him down, since I was too busy gagging out my gallbladder. No wonder gnomes hate us.

Still, the request of a beige or green gown was like angry chick music to my lovey-dovey, possessed ears. I may have lost a little of my anti-Vomit Day edge, but it hasn’t completely evaporated—no pink or red dresses on this day, ever. Maile designed an ombre gown for me, where the beige faded into a forest green. It was so different and totally me. Of course, Troy could care less what I wore—this used to be a good thing. Now, it just means he cares so much about everything that he doesn’t care about anything. Hmm. I’m thinking that probably made zero sense. The bottom line: until the Sandtalians reveal their findings, he was bound and determined to brood. Granted, he was very hot while brooding. I just wish he’d brood with his hands on me. Instead, he acts like I’m some delicate flower in danger of wilting. With the amount of heat he
hasn’t
been applying lately, the wilting thing was of little concern.

The Valentine’s Day Ground Gala was being held in an undisclosed, underground marble dome. To keep its location a secret, circular plant pods collected guests and deposited them down a leafy slide. At the bottom of the slide was a vast onyx and white marble ballroom where shiny sabers adorned a back wall and an all-gnome band entertained the crowd with fiddles and folk music. In place of chandeliers, giant pink and red polka dot mushrooms illuminated the room. With Mr. Gibbs by her side, Mom proudly provided pastries for the event, though not many merfolk indulged (stuck up snobs).

“Marina!” Airianna, her pale pink dress flowing against her tiny frame, rushed over to me. “I have to talk to you. Oh, hiya Troy! You feeling better tonight? Doesn’t Marina look lovely?”

“I’m okay. Marina always looks beautiful. I’m going to grab some cakes.” He shuffled off, shoving his hands in his pockets and hanging his head.

“Trey, would you mind keeping an eye on Troy for a minute while I girl talk?” Airianna asked sweetly.

Trey kissed her on the cheek. “Not a problem.”

Once Trey was out of earshot, Airianna said excitedly, “I have info on Trey’s mother! Don’t be mad…I, uh, did a little brain digging in his subconscious.”

“Okay, how could I be mad at you when I was the one who enlisted you to poke around? How did you brain dig, anyway?”

At that moment, Meikle sauntered up to us in her short black and gray dress and military boots, stroking her bag. “I may have magically borrowed a little of Doctor T’s telepathic talents and imbedded them in Airi’s inner eye.”

Waving her hands, Airianna said, “How we did it really isn’t a biggie…but, what I found
is
. When I casually asked Trey about his parents, I saw a mental picture hidden deep in his subconscious—it was of his mother.”

“How, though? He was only a baby when his parents gave him up,” I said.

“Infants can retain meaningful images,” supplied Meikle. “It was in my magic book. If babies are born with a talent or born to parents with talents, they’ll be able to hold pictures and voices in their mind, even if they can’t recall them as they age.”

“So, you saw her, then?!”

“Sure did,” said Airianna. “She had tan skin, green eyes as bright as Trey’s, and long white hair.”

“White hair…and Trey sprouted that white streak over the summer!” I said.

“Yep, and that’s not all. In the image, baby Trey’s vision held tight to a pendant around his mother’s neck.”

“Did you see what the pendant was?” I asked.

“An owl. A silver owl,” said Airianna. “It gets better. I heard a faint clip from his memory. It was his mother. As she put the owl pendant around him, she said, ‘This will protect you.’ Then, a man’s hand came into view and gave Trey’s mother a necklace with a fin pendant. After she put it on, she said to Trey, ‘You have the owl, I have the fin, and daddy will wear the ocean wave. We’ll always be connected.’”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I said.

“Trey might be the child of a merperson.”

“Exactly. And if we can find the necks wearing the wave or the fin—”

“We’ll find his parents,” supplied Airianna. “Ironic, isn’t it, considering everything? I may have fallen in love with a merman after all?”

“You three done gabbing?” asked Trey, wrapping his arms around Airianna’s waist. “Because I would like to dance with you.”

Smiling coyly, Airianna and Trey glided to the dance floor where, once again, Gully was dancing with herself.

“I should get back to my date,” said Meikle. “I told him to stay put and not move. He took me too seriously. Hasn’t moved his arm from his eyebrow since I came over here.”

Following her gaze, I saw Bobby standing in a semi-saluting stance. “Meeks, are you and Bobby…dating?”

“Trying to. He gets a little frazzled, but I think he has potential.”

“He’s sweating,” said Troy, rejoining me.

“It’s only the beginning,” Meikle purred as she slowly returned to Bobby.

“He’ll never survive her,” I said when Polly suddenly yanked my arms back. “Ouch!”

“I’m sick of not having a date. No date means things like
this
happen.” Polly pulled her hair back to reveal two fang marks in her neck.

“Oh, God, Polls! You were bitten by a vampire!” I said, as Troy readied himself to avenge our friend.

“No, no, not the bite! That was quite enjoyable, actually. No, he left me! It was a bite and run! He bit me, said my part-demon blood was of poor quality, and ditched me! What respectable vampire bites, barely sucks, and just leaves without a proper ‘thank you’ for the blood? I’m tired of being dateless. I can’t stand in a corner like Maile, daydreaming about her on-the-lam boyfriend, though I would have preferred her red gown to my candy-blue nonsense. I feel like a theme park costume.” Polly glanced at Gully, happily dancing in circles. “And
that
I simply will not do. Then you have Ophelia with enemy-Irving! I refuse to date an enemy. And you all thought I was demon-ing out when I mentioned her curious love of purple. I’ve got my demon eye on that one, bank it. Ultimately, Valentine’s Day sucks. Tonight sucks. Everything sucks. Except vampires, apparently,” she said, storming off to join my mom by the pastries.

“Lord, give my mama strength,” I groaned.

“Should someone tell Polls her pink hair pretty much makes everything she wears look like a theme park costume?” Aww, Troy made a little joke! It was the first one since the demon drama during the second match.

“Be my guest,” I teased.

“Think I won’t,” he said, his smile shadowed by underlying gloom.

“Come on. Dance with me,” I said, taking him by the hand.

Though he held me close, he hardly seemed to notice; his arms were stiff, cold, and unsure, as though the object in his arms might shatter at any moment.

“Ophelia shouldn’t be with Irving,” he said flatly. “No innocent heart should ever be shared with a duplicitous fraud.”

Oh, God, he’s killing me. “Troy, please—”

Angry shouting from across the room caught everyone’s attention.

“He’s trash, Pheli!” bellowed Benji. “He’ll rip you in two!”

“My life is none of your business!” screamed Ophelia.

“How about we handle things outside?” offered Irving.

“With pleasure,” Benji growled.

“No! Don’t do this! Please!” Ophelia chased after Benji and Irving, tugging on their sleeves, desperate to stop them.

“Benji can’t take Irving,” said Troy, grasping my hand.

“Hurry,” I said, as Ophelia’s anxious pleas grew louder.

By the time we reached the corridor just outside the marble dance hall, Benji was a bloody mess, Ophelia was in tears, and Irving was going in for more.

“Enough,” said Troy, grabbing Irving’s hand, stopping it mid-swing. “If you’re looking to humiliate, aim at me. I guarantee humiliation…for you.”

Irving regarded Troy for a moment, before trepidation traveled across his face. “Come on, Ophelia. Think I made my point here.”

Benji, staggering a bit, stood up, wiping his bloody mouth on his sleeve. “Yeah, you made a point. You showed your real self. And that’s the kind of man you want, Pheli? Someone who could ignore your wishes and do this? Someone who would’ve kept going if Troy hadn’t stopped him?” Ophelia’s sad eyes hesitated, but she ultimately returned to the ball with Irving. “Know where you stand, then!” Benji thanked Troy with half a nod and left.