Then, without another word, she turns and swims out the door. The wake of her fin flicks and those of her bodyguards wash through the room.

King Zostero floats up. “This has accomplished nothing,” he declares before following Dumontia’s path.

“No, wait,” I call out, trying to salvage the purpose of this meeting. “We can still do something.”

One by one, the other rulers rise from the table and storm from the room, until only Daddy, Tellin, and King Gadus are left. King Gadus tosses an angry look at his son.

“I hope you’re—” A violent coughing fit cuts off his sentence. When Tellin tries to help him, Gadus knocks his hand away. The old king draws himself up straight. “I hope you’re happy.”

Then he follows the rest of the kings and queens.

“I—” I shake my head, overwhelmed by what just happened, by everything that I just learned is happening in my world. “I had no idea.”

Then, without waiting for either Tellin or Daddy to say anything—really, what’s to say?—I turn and swim away.

Chapter 5

I don’t realize where I’m swimming until I get there. I blindly move along hallway after hallway, around corner after corner, my mind racing with the reality of what just happened. Detail after detail replays in my thoughts, with flashes of oil spills and overfishing and melting ice caps. The scope of the problem is overwhelming. Eventually I find myself floating through the door to the map room.

I look around at the familiar room, and I’m transported to a calmer place.

This used to be one of my favorite rooms to explore in the whole palace. As I swim in, the walls on either side of the room are lined with countless drawers of maps. Ancient maps, modern maps. Maps of mer kingdoms from around the world. Human maps that have been treated with a special kind of wax to be able to survive underwater. There is even an entire stack of drawers dedicated to treasure maps. My ancestors had a knack for talking pirates out of their secrets, and as a mergirl I dreamed of seeking out those buried boxes of gold and gems.

The most impressive element in the room, however, is the wall opposite the door. It is covered in a giant mosaic map of the world’s oceans. The Atlantic is in the center of the map, with the ten kingdoms of the Western Atlantic marked by borders in the colors of each kingdom. Glacialis, far to the north, is drawn in white. Marbella Nova is a yellow-rimmed kidney bean in the south. Acropora is marked in red. Thalassinia, in the very center, is outlined in bright royal blue.

Beyond the Western Atlantic are countless other kingdoms: in the Eastern and Southern Atlantic another fifteen kingdoms; too many to memorize in the different parts of the Pacific; and a few in the Indian Ocean. And that doesn’t even include those lake and river kingdoms that are landlocked on the seven continents. Well, not Antarctica—solid ice is no place for a mermaid—but the other six, anyway.

So many different kingdoms, so many different problems. And I never thought much beyond the concerns of my own shores. I can’t believe I’ve been this . . . self-centered.

I’m ashamed that I have let myself be so disconnected from my people and my kin. Just because Thalassinia has been spared environmental catastrophe so far doesn’t mean we always will be. And it doesn’t mean I can bury my head in the sand and ignore what’s happening in other parts of my world.

I sense Tellin entering the room before he speaks.

“It was worth a try.”

I don’t turn around.

“You were right,” I say, floating up to the center of the map. “I was a fool to believe it would be that easy.”

I trace my fingertips over the southern border of Thalassinia, where it meets the bright-red border of Acropora.

He swims up next to me. “Nothing this important is ever easy.” He covers my hand with his, and together we trace our shared border. “But that doesn’t mean we give up.”

“I just—” I pull my hand away and float down to the floor. “I never realized how bad things were getting.”

“How could you have known?”

“I could have been here; I could have taken up my duties sooner.” I can feel the tears stinging at my eyes, but I can’t stop them. “I could have been helping, instead of playing at being human.”

Tellin sinks down next to me and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “But you are human,” he says, giving me a squeeze. “Half, anyway. You weren’t playing, you were finding yourself.”

“But what if I—”

“You could not have known,” a booming voice interrupts. Daddy lingers in the doorway, as if he does not wish to intrude on our moment.

“What do you mean?” I ask, swimming out of Tellin’s hug. I don’t want Daddy—or anyone—getting the wrong impression that my heart lies anywhere but with Quince.

“I mean,” Daddy says, “that I kept the concerns of the mer world from you. I did not wish them to influence your decision.”

I just stare at him, confused.

“You have your mother’s compassion,” he says with a smile that’s just a little sad at the edges, “and her sense of justice. I wanted you to make the choices that were best for you, not only for your people.”

“I—” This shouldn’t come as a shock. Even when I was considering signing my title away to be with Quince on land, Daddy supported me without hesitation. Of course he wouldn’t want the plight of my people—of my mer kin—to influence that choice. That doesn’t mean I think he was right to do it, but I understand and appreciate it all the same.