TANGLED TIDES (The Sea Monster Memoirs #1)

3.) Treygan

TREYGAN

Yara repeated the words, "He's lying," in various tones: certain, doubtful, questioning, and back to certain. The sooner she mastered our form of communication, the better off we would both be.

Merfolk do not lie, I countered calmly.

Ha! That's a lie to cover up all your other lies. Merfolk are known for their evil tricks.

Delmar thought he had drained her of any sea creature knowledge. However, it seemed she remembered being educated-or miseducated-about our kind.

Unraveling the intricate knots of Rownan's lies would take a while, so I made myself comfortable on a nearby boulder. When I looked up, Yara was rambling.

No way is that guy related to Rownan. No freakin' way. He really needs a haircut. How is he sitting underwater? This way of life makes no sense-

Sitting is easy, I interrupted, gesturing at a large rock. Why don't you try it?

What? Hey, I didn't-some of my thoughts aren't meant for you to hear. Stay out of my head.

Look away if your words aren't meant for me. It isn't a difficult concept. I couldn't hide my annoyance. Transforming and educating humans was a daunting and never-ending task, and I had no time for it.

She eyed me from head to fins, her scowl softening a bit. How can you live underwater and not be wrinkled like a prune?

It's a sea creature thing: minimal effects of gravity, proper hydration, limited exposure to human pollutants, and other factors that could be compared to a fountain of youth.

She stared at me, a jumble of incoherent thoughts passing through her mind. For the briefest moment her eyes reminded me of autumn suns. Her long eyelashes fanned outward like amber rays of light. Then she squinted.

How old are you? she asked. Twenty?

A few decades have passed since I was born.

A few decades puts you at thirty. You can't be that old. She had no concept of what old meant.

Most of us live to be three-hundred years or so.

Three-hundred! Why would anyone want to live that long?

We aren't considered old until about two-hundred and fifty. We age differently than humans. I had promised the Violets not to participate in Yara's education without discussing it with her teacher first, but I wanted to tell Yara the truth until her pretentious head spun. You have a lot to learn about the mer way of life.

Apparently I had a lot to learn about human transformations. Her yellow hair and golden irises were perplexing. She should have started as a Red. Delmar assured me there had to be an explanation. He was on his way to update the elders, and soon we would have answers.

Yara continued to ramble. I don't want to learn about this way of life. I want to be human again. Take me back to my island. She waved her hands above her head. This is not my home and it never will be.

Pissy-I believed that was the current slang word to describe her attitude. The pissy side of Yara was one I hadn't seen much of throughout the years. I didn't care for it at all. If human life is so splendid then why did you spend so much of yours sitting on the beach, crying for hours on end and gazing at the ocean?

She inhaled a mouthful of water. You spied on me?

Don't flatter yourself. I avoid going ashore whenever possible, and I have better things to do than stalk a human child.

I'm not a child. I'll be eighteen tomorrow.

My focus shot toward a turtle swimming in the distance. Yara didn't know today was her real birthday. Her mother was smarter than I had given her credit for. It reminded me that there were only eighteen sunsets left until the gateway to our realm could be unlocked. The reward was well worth putting up with this childish drama. I would do anything to return my people to safety, including keeping up my end of this wretched deal.

Our eyes met again. Yara, I am well aware of your age. Reporters have been assigned to you for quite some time.

Reporters? Numerous merfreaks have been spying on me?

Call my people freaks again and I will show you just how freaky I can be. I swam forward until our faces were inches apart. If you think you dislike me now, wait until you see me angry.

I wanted to retract my words immediately. A lump bobbed in her throat as she watched my hallmarks swirl through my skin. Why was I letting this girl get me so riled up?

Yara rubbed her eyes. Do your tattoos keep moving, or is the water making me hallucinate?

I forced my thoughts to take a calmer tone. They are called hallmarks. They represent our heritage and individual character traits. They also adjust according to our emotions.

She glanced down at her own symbols and shook her head. Back to my question. Who has been spying on me?

Let's go meet some of the others, including the mermaid who reported your whereabouts to me. Rude thoughts continued to gush out of her. Civil conversation didn't appear to be an option, but maybe humor would help. Shall I gather the seahorses for the long journey?

She paused, glancing at the fish and plants around us. You ride seahorses?

I fought back a laugh. If you believe that, I nodded at the hallmark leaves covering her breasts, you must also think the women wear seashell bikini tops.

She folded her arms over her chest and floated away from me. We had a deal. You said you'd take me to find Rownan. Or was that one of your merfolk lies?

If I could have tied her to a sunken ship and left her there I would have. Who could have guessed she would transform into such a brat? Fine. We will find Rownan first.

Then we would find Koraline. She had failed her assignment miserably. How did we not know Rownan had been interacting with Yara? My serpent hallmark slithered down my back. Its silver eyes burned against my skin. Yes, let's go find Rownan. My big brother might be surprised to see me.