But then, on the swim back and in the day since I got home, I started to worry. What if the other kings and queens aren’t outraged? What if they think Dumontia’s ends justify the means and that revealing ourselves to the human world is exactly what needs to be done?

Dumontia seems to think that’s how they’ll feel. If they were so quick to jump on the sabotage bandwagon, maybe they will think revelation is a good idea too.

Even if I think this is something we—as rulers and as mer people—might want to consider someday, I don’t think this is the way to do it. Forcing the decision on all of merkind without discussion, without a vote. That’s not right.

If that’s the play, then maybe I have to do something more extreme to get the kings and queens to see reason.

I only have one chance to use Dumontia’s secret plan to my advantage, one chance with the element of surprise. I need to use it well and wisely.

“If you had it to do over again,” I say, getting to the point of my presence, “would you tell the police? I mean, would you turn them in to keep them from getting into bigger trouble?”

Her brown eyes get a faraway look. “In a heartbeat.”

“That’s what I thought,” I say, sighing with relief. “Thank you.”

“Lily,” she says, “I know you don’t want to talk about the specifics of what’s going on.” She smiles softly. “But if you are involved with people, or an organization, who are taking illegal action to achieve their goals, then maybe you should reconsider your involvement. You’re still so young. I would hate to see you throw your future away because you got caught up in a cause.”

I can’t help but laugh. I appreciate her concern, misplaced as it is. No, Miss Molina doesn’t know the whole truth about what’s going on—she can’t—but if she did, she’d see that I’m trying to prevent that very thing from happening.

“I promise you, Miss Molina,” I say, bringing myself back to a serious place, “it’s not like that at all.”

“If you’re certain?”

“I wish I could tell you all about it,” I say, and am surprised that I actually mean it. If there was one human outside my circle of friends and family I would tell the truth to, then Miss Molina would be that person. She’s smart and kind, and she cares about the oceans and the environment.

Even though I hope it doesn’t happen the way Dumontia is trying to force, maybe one day I will be able to tell Miss Molina the truth about me.

“I understand, Lily,” she says, patting my knee. “You are entitled to your secrets. But if they ever get to be too much to bear alone . . .”

I grin at her. “You’ll be the first.”

With a reassured certainty about my plan, I jump up and hurry out into the hall. I’m going to need everyone’s help to make this happen, and I need to start tonight.

* * *

Doe and I are bent over stacks of kelpaper when Aunt Rachel gets home after work. She drops her bags on the bench by the door and walks over to the table.

“Another round of invitations?” she asks.

I nod. “Yes. I think I’ve figured out how to solve one of my problems. And if it goes well, it might solve them both.”

“Well, if you two are working that hard,” she says, “then it must be a pizza night. What kind would you girls like?”

“I don’t care,” I say. “Anything is fine.”

Doe looks up from her careful calligraphy. “Pineapple and jalapeño, please.”

“What?” I ask, making a face.

She shrugs. “It reminds me of Laver’s special sweet-and-spicy roll.”

I smile. I’d forgotten that was her favorite. “Okay, then I’ll have that too.”

While Aunt Rachel calls the pizza place, I slide another seal-stamped kelpaper sheet across the table to Doe.

“Thanks for helping me again,” I say.

Doe shrugs, like it’s whatever. “Brody had a family thing.”

“I’m going to grab a quick shower,” Aunt Rachel says, digging into her purse. “I’ll leave the money here on the counter in case the pizza gets here before I’m done.”

“Okay,” I say, and then, when she’s climbing the stairs, I return my attention to Doe. “Why do you always do that?”

She doesn’t look up from her writing. “Do what?”

“Act like things are no big deal?” I stamp another sheet of kelpaper with squid ink. “It’s okay to care, you know.”

She is still and silent for several long seconds before finally answering. “Sometimes, when you care, it hurts more.”

“But you do care,” I insist. “I can tell. You just act like you don’t.”

“Well, I don’t want to,” she whispers. “I’d rather be carefree and aloof than wind up crying in my bed every night. Once was enough.”

I take a shaky breath. I remember that one time all too well. She’s talking about when her parents died. They were killed in a fishing-boat accident a few years ago, and I know Doe took it really hard. Who wouldn’t? She didn’t leave her room for weeks. It was months before she started attending palace events again. She was a different mergirl after that.

I always knew that was why she acted out, why she rebelled against Daddy and Uncle Portunus and anyone who tried to rein her in with rules and regulations.