“That’s madness,” Daddy says. “You cannot know that will be the result.”

“We cannot know it won’t, either,” Zostero argues.

“Ridiculous notion,” Gadus grumbles.

Tellin pats him on the shoulder.

“Maybe she’s right,” Queen Sula says. “Maybe this is our best chance.”

“Our best chance?” Queen Otaria argues. “Perhaps our best chance of becoming human science experiments.”

“That would be a better fate than slowly going extinct as the oceans die around us.”

“We’re not going extinct.”

“We will if things don’t change.”

The room erupts into arguments. Some of the rulers see Dumontia’s plan for the craziness it is, while others think it’s a plan worth considering. As the debate grows louder and less controlled, I turn around and flip on the TV. I drag my fingertip over the touchpad on the laptop Brody set up this morning, and I pull up the video we shot yesterday.

I click play, turn the volume to full, and then step out of the way.

My heart is racing, and I cross my fingers behind my back.

No one notices at first. They are yelling at each other, and their voices drown out my video.

Then Tellin, who is the only person in the room who knows what’s going on, shakes his father’s shoulder and points to the TV. The two queens Gadus had been arguing with follow his gaze, and all three fall silent as they watch me, Peri, and the not-so-terrible trio dive into the pool.

Gradually, the other kings and queens notice. By the time the video ends, all eyes in the room are glued to the small screen.

The video loops back to the beginning and starts again. Brody did a masterful job with the editing, making the whole thing look like a series of news broadcasts. The rulers watch in silence as I make my confession, transfigure mid-dive, and climb back out onto the deck.

When the clip reaches the end and loops back to the start again, I click pause.

“Is this what we want?” I ask, pointing at the frozen image of Brody sitting at a news desk with a headline on the green screen behind him that reads MERMAIDS ARE REAL! “Videos of mermaids and mermen showing on every channel in every country around the world? Because you know the news of our existence would not stay confined to our region of the ocean. We would be outing every merperson in every body of water on the planet.”

Ten pairs of eyes stare, unblinking, at the screen. Only Tellin looks at me. He gives me an encouraging nod, and I continue.

“Because if this is what we want, I can do it without its costing a single human life.” I hold up my cell phone. “My friend who helped me make this video is waiting for a message from me. All I have to do is send the word, and he’ll email it to every newswire on the internet. They’ll have it in broadcast-ready HD in Paris, Dubai, and Hong Kong before you’ve made it back to Seaview Beach.”

Everyone looks too stunned to react, even Dumontia. She is staring at me like I’m some previously undiscovered species of poisonous blowfish.

For the first time since I got this crazy idea, I feel like it might actually work.

“Should I tell him to send it?” I hold up my phone, placing my finger over the send button.

Every single person in the room—every single one—simultaneously shouts, “No!”

“You’re sure?” I ask, looking directly at Dumontia.

Her mouth moves like she’s grinding her teeth. This is the moment when I think she realizes that she’s lost. She and I are playing a high-stakes game of political chess, and I just called checkmate.

“Don’t,” she says, so quietly I almost don’t hear.

“What was that?” I need everyone to hear her say it.

“Don’t send the video,” she enunciates. “Don’t reveal our secret.”

I nod and put my phone away. I want to smile, but I think I’ll save that for later.

I catch Daddy’s gaze across the crowd, and I can tell he’s a little bit irritated at me for this risky tactic. He’s also proud. I have a feeling there’s a lecture in my future, but for now I have to finish my business.

“So we’re all agreed that revealing ourselves to humans is not the best idea ever?” Everyone nods—some more reluctantly than others. For those reluctant ones, I feel like I have to spell it out. “And if sabotaging human objects could draw their close attention to our world, then that’s an equally bad idea?”

More nodding and agreement, and I finally feel relief.

I reach behind me and turn off the computer and the TV.

“Now, if sabotage is off the table as the answer to our problems,” I say, heading into the part of my speech that might actually be productive, “then I think we also agree that we need to work together to find another solution. Now, let me tell you about my ideas.”

As I start explaining the purpose and procedures of the interkingdom commission on environmental change, about the streamlined disaster relief and the resource matrix, I can see pride in Daddy’s eyes. King Gadus’s, too. And through our connection, I can feel Tellin’s relief that his kingdom might actually stand a chance.

Their pride and relief fill me with some of my own. My first act as crown princess took a little longer than anticipated, but the pieces are finally coming together. Crown Princess Waterlily is on a roll.

Chapter 24

“Lily. Sanderson.”

Principal Brown’s voice booms out of the speakers and echoes across the Seaview High football stadium. The crowd of parents, siblings, teachers, and staff applauds.