“The other thing we will do,” I add, “is create what my friend Shannen calls a resource matrix.”

“Resource matrix?” King Bostrych repeats.

“It basically means we’ll look at what resources each kingdom has,” I say.

Tellin adds, “And what they need.”

“Then we can create a circle of aid.” I draw my finger in a circle on the table. “Maybe you need cloth, but you have a surplus of crab this year. Thalassinia will send you a sea truckload of cloth, while you give a portion of your crab harvest to Rosmarus. Then Rosmarus gives Thalassinia a delivery of swordfish, and the circle is complete.”

“Sounds complicated,” King Bostrych says.

I thought the same thing when Shannen first suggested it. But the more she explained it, the more sense it made.

“It kind of is,” I agree. “But once it’s in place, it will just be a matter of staying organized. Besides,” I say, giving him an earnest look, “I think it’s worth the effort, don’t you?”

He studies me, and I see the concern in his eyes. He’s worried about his people. The situation in his kingdom might not be as bad as Acropora’s—yet—but it could be heading that way.

If he would just see that our only hope for solving this massive problem is to work together.

“It surely is,” he says, answering my question as his wariness fades into a smile. “Where do I sign?”

I reach back again, and Peri slips a pen into my hand. I hand it to the king. “Right at the top.”

With a flourish, he signs the first line under the petition.

We, the undersigned kings and queens of the Western Atlantic, do hereby indicate our interest in the formation of an interkingdom commission on oceanic environmental concerns and how to address them, with the understanding that this commission will seek to streamline disaster relief and improve trading of essential resources.

Bostrych, King of Trigonum

As he hands the pen and the petition back to me, I heave a huge sigh of relief. Now that my nerves are settling, I realize that I’m as famished as my guards. As the wait staff brings out another set of trays—this one with a rainbow display of fresh-caught sushi—I am relieved that this first stop on my royal trip is going so smoothly.

I give the signed petition to Peri, and she slides it into her bag as she finally takes a seat at the table. She and Tellin both dig into the sushi.

“Now,” I say to King Bostrych as I place a few pieces of sushi on my own plate, “we know about some of the environmental problems facing your kingdom. Tell me about the rest of them.”

Chapter 11

With yet another survey complete and another signature added to my petition, I swim away from my meeting with King Zostero of Desfleurelle feeling confident about my plan. With his pledge of support today and one from Queen Cypraea of Antillenes yesterday, that makes three names on my list, and three surveys full of environmental concerns.

Antillenes, which is located in the southern Caribbean, is suffering a lot of the same problems as Acropora: warming waters, dying coral, and diminishing food supply. Des­fleurelle, on the other hand, is suffering different problems in the Gulf of Mexico, many of which are caused by human drilling operations.

It’s daunting to think of everything that we need to work on, but at least the rulers are being receptive to cooperation.

“This is going well,” I say to Tellin. “Don’t you think?”

When he doesn’t respond, I turn to look at him. He looks lost in thought, like his mind is somewhere else. As I focus on him, the connection of our bond slams me with sadness. The feeling is so strong, I almost start to cry.

If I hadn’t been so focused on my mission, maybe I would have noticed earlier. But I guess I must have blocked out the connection.

“Tellin,” I say softly, laying a hand on his shoulder.

He looks up, startled, and stops swimming.

I drift to a stop with him, and around us Peri and the guards stop too.

“What?” He shakes his head. “Sorry, I was . . . thinking.”

“I can see that,” I say. “And I know you’re thinking about something sad. Want to talk about it?”

His eyes widen for a second, and then he nods, as if remembering the bond and the reason I can sense the mood of his thoughts.

“I’m just thinking about home,” he says, shaking his head. “When I left my father, he was . . . not in a good place. He is sick and dying and angry.”

“That’s understandable,” I say. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”

I don’t remember my mom—at all—so it’s hard to even miss her, really. It’s more like I miss the idea of her. Even that is really hard sometimes.

But the thought of losing someone I know and care about, of watching him get sicker and weaker, knowing what’s going to happen and that there’s nothing to do about it? Well, it’s no wonder Tellin is sad and distracted.

“You should go home,” I tell him. “We’re done with the kingdom visits for this weekend. There’s no reason you should swim all the way back to Thalassinia before heading south.”

“Are you certain?”

“Absolutely.” I place my hands on his shoulders, sending as much positivity and assurance I can through our bond. “I’ll send you a message when I know where we’re starting next weekend.”

I sense him wanting to argue, but in the end his emotion wins out. “Okay,” he says. “You’re sure you can get home safe?”