OVERFALLS (The Merworld Water Wars, Book 2) (6 page)

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Authors: Sutton Shields

Tags: #Young Adult, #horror, #ocean, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Mermaid, #Sea, #Merpeople, #paranormal romance, #Merman

BOOK: OVERFALLS (The Merworld Water Wars, Book 2)
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“Twisted, that’s what they are,” said Mrs. Waterberry. “Peek inside.”

I did as she said and found a note from Doctor Tenly.
You and Trey are the targets. Be aware
. Ooh, what a big surprise! Yeah, hardly. Trey actively sought to uncover their secret, while I fell in love with a merman, then proceeded to take my place as the Siren Savior, which essentially told all anti-peace merps that I’m there to kick their fins.

“Mrs. Valentine, I presume?” asked Mrs. Waterberry.

“Camille, please,” said my mom, extending her hand. “You own The Bay Shop in town, is that right?”

“Call me Eva, and yes, that I do. You two better get in the courtroom.”

“Courtroom? Aren’t we just going in there?” I asked, pointing to the room where they held the Christmas Eve party last year.

“Nope. Like most buildings in Saxet Shores, there’s a little more to this one than meets the eye,” she said, winking. “Now, head straight back, walk through the wall, and you’ll be in the courtroom. Merps to the right, Normals to the left. See you in there,” she said, shuffling off to grab a few random Fairhair students who were goofing around.

Mom and I walked down the hall until we met with a massive stone mosaic featuring angels desperately trying to save baby dolphins and whales from vicious sea creatures.

“You ready?” I asked my mom, taking her hand.

“Being ready is overrated. Let’s go,” she said.

Together, we walked through the wall and entered an elaborate courtroom. The walls were bronze with green coral reef candelabras casting a subtle glow. Above us was a painted ceiling, much like you would find in a magnificent cathedral; the art depicted a classic scene of good versus evil, and I couldn’t help but think it was reflecting the occupants of the courtroom: from within sinister storm clouds, evil faces in flowing robes of black and red unleashed their army of mutant sea creatures towards a group of sparkling Merpeople, dolphins, and angels rising as one from a bright, foamy, aqua sea.

Beneath the menacing half of the painting was a raised ivory bench where five men with tailored black suits and gray, high-collar shirts sat, their hands folded upon brick red file folders.

We didn’t have to struggle for a seat. Our side of the room was practically empty. Trey, Meikle, and Ophelia were the only other Normals still in Saxet Shores. Mom and I scooted in with them and waited. I didn’t have to look hard to find my boyfriend—the second I sat down, Troy stood up, faced me, smiled, and nodded. With his arms folded, he continued standing, only now he turned to stare down the Imperia members.

“He shows no fear, does he?” said my mom.

“No, he really doesn’t,” I said, watching him...and pretty much wanting to throw my body on his. Once again, my hormones have the absolute worst timing.

The sound of a gavel slamming down startled me, stopping my baser instincts in their sweaty tracks.

“Will Principal Jeepers and Vice Principal Anderson please join us on the bench,” said an albino Imperia member sitting dead center. Of the five, he was the one who scared me the most…and it had little to do with his colorless skin and pinkish-red eyes. Built like a towering concrete wall, his aura pulsing with carnage, this man spelled death.

Mr. Smarmy and Doctor Tenly—disguised as the scraggly, pirate-like Principal Jeepers—joined the Imperia members, sitting to the far right on the high bench.

“I’m Prax Graytone, Majestic Imperia Member, judge, overseer, and finality bringer,” said the albino man. “The gentlemen to my right are Mistron Havenot, Cell Imperia Member in charge of science control, and Teldon Tyne, Ground Imperia Member and combat specialist. To my left, we have Smith Merculee, Scale Imperia Member, head of our aquatic department, and, finally, Barkley Forth, Bone Imperia Member…our enforcer.

“Now, would the representatives for the royal mer-families please step forward,” said Prax Graytone.

To my complete and utter shock, Treeva Tombolo and Kyle Zale, dressed in their royal attire, approached the bench. Even Doctor Tenly raised an eyebrow and squirmed slightly in his seat when he saw Treeva with Kyle.

“Names, please,” said Graytone.

“Princess Treeva Tombolo. Daughter to King Thompson Tombolo, sister to Troy Tombolo.” Treeva looked absolutely stunning, a fact that did not go unnoticed by the all-male members of the Imperia. Her shimmering pale pink gown and white shrug hugged every curve on her flawless body. Her long, chestnut hair cascaded in soft curls beneath a colorful coral and sapphire crown.

Kyle, looking surprisingly dapper in his black suit and embroidered purple velvet robes, finally responded, but never once did he shift his gaze from Treeva. “Prince Kyle Zale. Son of King Zarius Zale, brother to Katrina, Kathreena, and Kellen Zale.” His eyes screamed loneliness and longing as they soaked in his former fiancée; if he wasn’t such a creep, I’d feel bad for him.

Prax Graytone stood and bowed to the two impressive royals before him. “Please, make yourselves comfortable in the thrones we have provided you.”

Treeva and Kyle watched as two Imperia lackeys, each carrying a throne-like chair, emerged from a door just off the front of the courtroom; once placed next to Doctor Tenly’s chair, Treeva and Kyle took their seats. Treeva glanced uncomfortably at Doctor Tenly; to his credit, he simply smiled and turned his attention back to the Imperia. Of course, if I could see him clenching his jaw from where I sat, then I’m certain Treeva did as well.

“Now that everyone is present, we shall commence.” Prax Graytone removed what looked like a legal document from his file folder. “As you know, Principal Jeepers, Vice Principal Anderson, Prince Zale, and Princess Tombolo, Saxet Shores is in violation of the Banishment Charter, clause five—the banished shall hereby live in excluded normalcy with no harm or disturbance brought upon them. However, we have received word that the banished have, in fact, gone missing. If you cannot offer an explanation
and
proof of their whereabouts…well…I needn’t remind you of the severity of the consequences you will suffer.”

“King Zale offers his apologies for not issuing timely updates to the Imperia,” said Kyle Zale, handing Prax Graytone a lavender folder. “You will find explanations and all the proof you could want regarding the missing Normals in there, as well as a signed and trident-notarized document from my father, the king.”

“Whatever is in that folder is full of lies,” I whispered to my mom.

“You will also find my father’s signature confirming King Zale’s statements and information,” said Treeva darkly.

“Why on earth would her father agree to the lies?” asked my mom.

“Remember, Troy’s father is under the control of King Zale by virtue of that damn pact. He probably had no choice but to agree. That’s why we have to find proof the Zale’s breached it,” I said.

After reviewing the documents, Prax Graytone observed the room, smiling like a sinister cat. “Consider the breach of clause five forgiven. Now, we will move to the second breach. Clause ten—the banished shall never, under any circumstance, become aware of the existence of Merpeople. I understand there are two individuals responsible for this breach.”

“That would be four, Majestic Graytone,” said Kyle Zale without hesitation. “Normals Trey Campbell and Marina Valentine…and merps Troy Tombolo, along with Airianna Hail.”

“No!” I shouted, shooting straight up from my seat.

“You have something to contribute, young lady?” asked Graytone, his red eyes stabbing into mine like poisonous darts.

Damn. “Uh…I mean…Troy Tombolo and Airianna Hail shouldn’t be included in these accusations, Mr. Graytone—”

“That’s Majestic Graytone, young lady,” he said, correcting me. What an ass-munch.

“I apologize, Majestic Graytone. If anyone is to blame for the violation, it’s me.”

“That’s not true, Marina,” said Troy, standing.

“No, she’s right,” said Trey, joining me. “Marina and I are to blame. No one else.”

Airianna quickly stood up next to Troy. “We’re all friends, Sir. If there is a breach, then it is a breach grounded in friendship, understanding, and acceptance. For that, we have no shame.”

God, I couldn’t be more proud of Airianna if I tried; at the same time, the Imperia was here for Trey and me, not them. I will not allow
our
enemy from
our
government to make them part of some stupid power trip. After all, there wasn’t a devil’s chance in church that they want to tangle with the merps, not with so much money resting on those contractually calm seas.

“Majestic Graytone, your beef is with Trey and me, not the merps. If you intend to judge and rule, throw your venom our way, not theirs. Sound good?”

Prax Graytone watched me intently, lightly drumming his fingers on the folder in front of him. “My, my. I was prepared to rule this day, but you have given me pause for thought, Miss—”

“Valentine. Marina Jayne Valentine.”

“So, you’re her.” For a moment, we just stared at one another. “Given the tenacity and supposed camaraderie amongst the banished and Merpeople, the Imperia will remain in Saxet Shores for the next month, observing both groups on a daily basis. On August nineteenth—day before classes are scheduled to commence—we will hold a formal hearing to determine whether or not this town will remain intact, whether the banished shall stay or be removed to another location, and address the issue of possible execution. Court is hereby adjourned until the nineteenth.”

And with the slam of his gavel, life stalled for us all.

 

Chapter Four

 

Escape Hatch

 

August: Ending of the beginning

Monthly Life Caption: To Hear or Not to Hear, That is the Question.

Mood: Worry-warty

Eating: Chips of all flavors and textures

Music: Dude, we’re going gospel

 

For over a month, stone-faced Imperia members—or the suited stiffs, as we like to call them—have tracked our every step, sniff, sneeze, burp, and fart. No joke: A girly, gossip-filled lunch with Airianna turned into a spy movie when Smith Merculee, Scale Imperia Member, pulled up a chair, started a recorder, whipped out a fancy journal, and started scribbling down notes; Meikle very nearly cursed Mistron Havenot to life as a worm when he tried to examine her bag during a simple walk on the beach; even a make-out session in Troy’s bed came to a screeching halt when the flash of a camera revealed Barkley Forth standing INSIDE my boyfriend’s window, gazing at us like some perv.

From ruined dates to temper flares and near curses, the Imperia took great pleasure in testing everyone’s patience, perhaps even hoping to provoke an impromptu reaction. In order to avoid giving Imperia members exactly what they desire, we all decided to spend most of our time sitting inside our houses, watching their pale, lifeless faces lurk outside our windows.

Mom has been edgier than usual, particularly now that she hasn’t talked to Mr. Gibbs since the Imperia declared an observation month.

“I’m losing it, baby girl,” said my mom, sitting by me on the couch. “I was just in my bedroom, brushing my hair, when one of them popped up by my window! I’m even uncomfortable going to the bathroom these days, especially when it’s a visit requiring a sit and stay. If one of them catches me going into the bathroom, I see him writing notes. What the hell is he writing? Does he guess whether it’s a one or two based on how long I’m in there? It’s getting ridiculous, and now I’m beginning to lose all decorum. Yesterday, one watched from your window as I went into the bathroom and was still staring creepily at me when I came out. I held up two fingers on one hand and flipped the bird with the other.”

Pulling my knees to my chest, I started laughing so hard, I saw sparks in the corners of my eyes. “God, I wish I could’ve seen that! Did the suited stiff have any reaction?”

“Just kept on staring. I was a bit disappointed. Kind of hoped his empty eyes would turn vicious and squinty, or maybe his lip would snarl in disgust.”

“Oh, but I’m sure he was diligent in making a note on your ghastly indignation,” I said, putting on my best stuffy, nose-in-the-air voice.

“Damn well better have! Hope he added an asterisk,” she said, clearing her throat. “Mrs. Valentine, I am unhappy to report, has maintained regular bowel movements, thus our presence has not had the intended effect upon her bathroom rituals.”

In between laughs, I said, “You know we need to get out of the house when our funny bone finds its tickle in poop jokes.”

“You’re right. We need to remove ourselves from lockdown. Where’s that crazy doctor merman when you need him?” POP! SNAP! “Jesus. What and where?”

Surveying the living room and finding nothing, I started for the kitchen; my eye spotted something bright pink resting upon Mom’s favorite frog hand towel. “Counter! Must be from Doctor Tenly.”

Mom and I hurried over to find a fuchsia Gerbera daisy with a piece of blue paper wrapped around its stem. Unrolling the note, Mom began reading aloud. “Check all windows for Imperia eyes before commencing. If clear, keep curtains open and begin. Be quick.”

I ran to the living room windows, dutifully made sure there wasn’t a suited stiff in sight, and pushed the curtains back a bit more, just for good measure. “We’re good.”

Mom nodded and continued reading. “Take two petals closest to the stem and place each one on a separate cushion of the couch.” Plucking two petals from the underside of the daisy, I hurried to the couch and did as instructed. “Grab the flower. Marina, sit on one of the petals; Camille, sit on the other.” Mom sat on the petal closest to the kitchen, while I took the one nearest the windows. “Are you sure he’s not fried?”

I laughed. “No guarantees, there, Mom.”

Shaking her head, she looked for the next step on the note. “Each of you will now pluck a petal from the top of the flower and eat them…then...hang on. Oh, and this is from me…uh…Doctor Tenly!” Yanking her petal from the daisy, Mom looked at me and shook her head again.

“I know. You’ll get used to him, I promise,” I said, taking my petal. “Ready?”

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