Waterfell

“But what if one of us dies?”

“Then a part of you dies, too.”

It was as simple as that. The thought of it terrifies and excites me at the same time, and the older I get, the worse it becomes—the heavy sense of anticipation, knowing that a part of me is out there somewhere, waiting for me as much as I’m waiting for it.

With me, bonding would be so much more than it’d be for any other Aquarathi. If I had returned home, my Dvija would have been celebrated with all kinds of ceremony, because any partner of mine would become my royal companion. But since my father’s death, everything changed. There was nothing for me to return to—no crown, no ceremony and no family.

My mother died when I was very young, and for years it was just my dad and me. As a child, I’d been willful and stubborn to a fault, always getting into trouble and disappearing.

“There are better ways to get attention,” Soren had said to me after an ill-advised disappearing act during an important court banquet in Waterfell. “Like being a daughter and princess he can be proud of. You should have been there today. Your absence was noted by many.”

“I don’t want to be a princess,” I’d said sourly. “And I don’t care.”

“You can’t keep running from who you are, Nerissa. One day you will be queen.”

“I’d rather live in a cave full of vomit.”

Looking back, I was far more trouble than I was worth. Our people faulted him for being so indulgent and not taking a firmer hand with me, saying that if he couldn’t control his own child, how could he control his people? Put it this way—when I left, no one missed me. After all, as the humans say, no one mourns the wicked. Without my father, the thought of returning to Waterfell alone was—and still is—terrifying.

“What’s wrong?” Speio asks, sensing my change in mood.

“Nothing. I was just thinking about...my father,” I say after a few seconds. “At least you still have Echlios and Soren, even if we aren’t there. My father’s gone, and I’ll always be a constant disappointment to the Aquarathi.” Speio doesn’t answer right away, but I can see a sudden tightness at the corner of his mouth and in his fingers on the steering wheel. My voice fades to a whisper. “How can I face them? They only remember a silly child.”

“The people will give you a chance. You’re the heir,” he says. “Look, you’re almost seventeen. Dvija’s bound to happen soon. When you come of age to rule in a few months, everything will change.”

I glance at him. “Spey, does it hurt?”

“Does what hurt?”

“Transitioning. Dvija.”

“A little.” Speio’s voice grows as tight as his fingers. “It’s more like you feel everything, like everything is heightened, all emotions.” He shoots me a look. “Riss, you know all this, how we work, how all of that sense of awareness goes away once you—”

“—bond,” I finish, hesitating before I ask the real question. “But what if we never do? What happens then?”

“If we stay human,” he says quietly, “it hurts less.”

“Oh.” Which explains why Speio very rarely accompanies me on my occasional deep-sea jaunts when I transform into Aquarathi form for hours at a time. “One more question, and I’ll shut up, I promise.”

“You can ask me anything, Riss, you know that.”

“Can we bond with a human?”

I already know the answer, but I risk the sudden sharp look that Speio launches in my direction because I want to hear him say it. I need to hear him say it. I need to know that the butterfly sensation in my chest caused by this human boy means nothing.

“No,” he says, his green eyes searching. “But it doesn’t mean we can’t love them.”

“Did you ever? Love one of them?”

“No. It’s just not as real for me. No matter how much they love you, or you them, you will always want more. You will always search for the missing part of yourself.” He pauses. “And that can never be a human.”

We don’t speak again until we pull into the deserted stretch of gravelly road. The others are already there and getting changed. It’s a bit of a hike down to the beach so the plan is to gear up first and walk down. I pull my hair into a ponytail and shrug out of my jeans to pull on a shortie wet suit over my bikini—it may be spring, but the water is still chilly, and even though water temperature doesn’t affect me, I need to keep up appearances.

“Hurry up, slowpokes,” Sawyer yells, already dressed and heading down the path.

I notice that Jenna isn’t changing. “You’re not surfing?”

“Here? No way. It’s like overhead out there, if you haven’t noticed. I prefer the baby waves.” She thrusts a camera in my face. “I’ll just take some shots of you guys. Looking good, Lo,” she says loudly with an exaggerated wink.

I try to force myself not to look at him but it’s too late. My eyes connect with a killer six-pack made even more killer by the ridge of black neoprene riding low on a pair of very lean hips. With a sharp intake of air and scolding myself in the same breath for even noticing, I tear my eyes away. What’s wrong with me? It’s not like I haven’t seen tons of showboating surfer dudes flaunting their chiseled bodies all over La Jolla. I make myself look up, keeping my expression nonchalant.

But Lo makes no such effort. He’s staring at me with a look of blatant appreciation on his face, and this time I can’t stop the blush that rises like an answering tide through me, nor the feeling of complete dissolution taking hold of my body. I barely even notice Speio’s frown or Jenna’s ecstatic face.

I know one thing’s for certain.

It’s not the butterflies I need to be worried about.

5

TAKING THE DROP

Out here, the ocean is vast, like a glittering surface that stretches to meet the sky, dipping and rolling in constant movement. In the distance, the edges of Catalina break the line of the horizon. With the sun making its way down, everything is dusted in a golden tinge—a sea and sky of molten gold. This is my favorite time of day, just before the sunset shimmers into red and orange, when the world is at its most perfect.

Breathless, I lie on my board way past the lineup where the ocean is only a gentle swell, dangling my arm into the water and feeling the fine layer of salt crusting on my face. I’m not tired, but it has taken more effort than usual to control my impulses. On top of my volatile feelings with Lo, I know I’m playing with fire because being in the ocean this close to the full moon is risky, when the call of the sea is so strong.

The others are still going strong. I can see Speio in the distance doing a sharp cutback on a wave and Sawyer paddling out to the lineup. I don’t see Lo. I’ve done everything possible to stay out of his way, especially after that moment up top. I need time to process what this thing is—if anything—between us. Speio, thank goodness, hasn’t said a word to me about the earlier interaction but I’m sure he’s saving it for the ride home.

Great.

Staring down into the blue depths below me, I want to dive down and keep going until I meet the ocean bottom. The pull of the deep is as seductive as the sea salt on my skin. Maybe I can cheat just a little. There’s no one out here, anyway. I wiggle my fingers under the water and relax, letting the ocean seep past my human skin, watching as tiny rivers of gold-and-green light shimmer up my wrist and my arm. The feel of it is drugging, making me light-headed and dizzy.

I close my eyes only to have them snap open at the feel of steel fingers digging into my upper arm.

“What are you doing, you idiot?” Speio mutters, wrenching my hand out of the water. I didn’t even hear him paddle out to me. “Get it together!”

“I’m sorry—”

“Nerissa, I warned you that you had to be careful. I felt it the second you let go,” Speio says, looking around us nervously. “Other predators will, too. And we’re around people.”

“I know. I said I was sorry, and it was only for a second,” I say, rubbing my tingling arm with my other hand. My skin still glows a little, but nowhere near as brightly as when it had been submerged. “I couldn’t help it. The call was impossible to resist. I wanted to, just for a second.” My voice is beseeching.

Speio’s stern face relaxes. He straddles his board, sitting upright, and reaches across to place his fingers against my skin. Almost immediately, I can feel the sharp tug of the ocean, only through Speio’s body. It’s nearly violent. My eyes widen.

“Feel that?” he asks gently. When I nod, he says, “That’s what I have to deal with being in the water, worse when I sense another like me. In this case, you. That’s Dvija. Every part of me is open and calling out to that missing piece. You asked me about it earlier at school. It’s this—one part pleasure, a hundred parts pain. Even as a human. And it’s a thousand times worse in Aquarathi form.”

“Oh,” I say, stricken. “I didn’t know. How can I help? What can I do? Do you want me try Sanctum?”

When I was younger my father told me that part of the responsibility of being an Aquarathi leader is being able to preserve our people’s well-being, by emotional intervention if necessary. He called it Sanctum, and I only ever saw him do it once. I still remember the feeling of bliss emanating from every Aquarathi around him. His power and reach were awe-inspiring.

“Thanks, but it’s too dangerous in human form. Plus, you’re not a queen yet.” Speio smiles a wistful smile. “Bonding makes all the pain go away.”

Speio’s reality hits me with the force of a sledgehammer. My voice wavers as I put two and two together. “So because of me, you have to deal with feeling like this anytime you’re in the water. Or around me. That’s why you got so angry before when you found out that I’d never planned on going back.”

“Sort of.”

“I’ll fix this, Speio. I promise.”

My throat is constricted. Speio is right. I’ve been more selfish than I could have ever imagined. I had no idea of the pain he was in every time he was in the water or in proximity to me. And that night in the pool must have been torture for him, but he still stayed there.

To earn my forgiveness.

Suddenly, I feel so small and powerless, even though I’m supposed to be the one with all the power...the one they’re all supposed to come to for strength. I’m utterly useless. Speio’s words in the parking lot at Dover were hurtful, but nothing he said was untrue. I am weak and self-seeking. I am stupid, blindly so.

A tear slips down, tracking its way through the salt on my face, and I grip the sides of my board until my fingers go numb. I hate feeling sorry for myself more than anything. Speio hunches over and presses his forehead to mine. “Stop,” he whispers. “You’ll make it worse if you cry. It’ll be okay.”

“What if it won’t?” I sniff. “What then?”

“We’ll deal with that if we have to,” Speio says against my hair, and then yanks a fistful of it and shoves me off my board into the water with a playful grin. “Now if you want to stop being such a sniveling baby, maybe we can get a few more waves in.”

Drenched and spluttering, I glare at him and climb back on my surfboard. “I wasn’t sniveling. I was crying in a perfectly dignified manner.”

Speio makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a snort and rolls his eyes. And snorts again. In the next second, I’m laughing so hard that my sides are aching and good tears instead of sad ones are pooling in my eyes.

“You’re so dumb.” I giggle.

“Hey, you two. What’s up?”

Lo. My entire body tenses and flutters at that velvety voice. I try to hide my immediate visceral response but it’s like trying to stop a freight train with a feather. Speio’s expression stiffens, the levity between us disappearing in the wind.

I’d forgotten.

With the water channeling between us, he can feel whatever it is that I’m feeling. Everything that I’m feeling. Blushing furiously at the thought of anyone—especially Speio—knowing what this boy is doing to me, I force myself to control my body’s responses, severing any link with the ocean and Speio, and reinforcing my human shell. Almost immediately, the connection weakens until there’s nothing but a shimmer of wind between us.

Oddly, I feel a sense of loss. I liked being linked to Speio—it made me feel less alone. Without a word, Speio sends a dark scowl in Lo’s direction, then spins on his board and paddles off. Obviously, he felt the same.

“What’s his problem?” Lo asks, his voice husky.

“Nothing. He’s just...protective.”

“Of you?”

“I guess. We’ve known each other a very long time so it comes with the territory,” I say, noticing that the fading sunlight makes his wet hair look like burnished metal. His hair is such an odd color. It’s not reddish-blond like mine, but it’s not gold or silver, either. It’s more of a mix of the two. The only thing I can think of to describe it is wet sand.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Lo asks, tilting his head. “Like I have seaweed on my head or something?”

I flush and tear my gaze away. “You have strange hair.”

“Um, thanks. I think,” Lo says, and then chuckles. “Made it myself.”

“No, I meant. It’s a nice color. I like hair,” I finish lamely, and want to kick myself. I like hair? Could I be any more of a loser? “I mean, I don’t like hair.”

Shut up, shut up, shut up!

“So do you or don’t you?” Although his face is deadpan serious, I can hear the thread of amusement in his voice and I feel myself bristling. “Like hair?”

“Could we just drop it, the hair thing? You have nice hair. Happy?” I snap, and start paddling back into the lineup.

At least I’ve worked out that when Lo opens his mouth, it’s a great way to keep me aggravated enough with him so that the other things, like the annoying treacherous butterflies, cease to matter. Despite the physical attraction, which I admit is there, I could never fall for a boy like Lo. He’s too self-confident and too amused all the time, like everything is part of some big joke.

“Come back, Nerissa. I’m sorry,” Lo says, keeping pace with me easily, his arms cleaving through the water like pistons. I’m just about to tell him where he can stuff it when I notice his eyes widen at something behind me. I glance over my shoulder, but all I can see is a ripple on the water as if something had just clipped the surface and then resubmerged.

“What the hell was that?” Lo says. He noticed, too.

“I didn’t see anything.” But just as I say it, something heavy brushes against my right arm dangling in the water, and a jolt staggers through me at the contact of flesh on flesh. Speio was right. My reckless little dance with the ocean probably summoned the thing.

“There it is again! You see it? A fin?” Lo’s voice has now turned wary and I bite back the urge to laugh at the nervous look on his face. It could be a dolphin, not a shark, even though I’m guessing it’s the latter. Guys—they can be so macho all the time, and the minute they see a fin it’s all over. I don’t blame them, though. Sharks are terrifying. I’ve seen fifty-foot ones that look like prehistoric monsters down in the depths of the ocean, but I can never tell anyone that, of course.

I press down onto the tip of my board so that my head and chest submerge along with it and nearly swallow a mouthful of water. My eyes widen and I pull my board back up. It’s no dolphin. And it’s no shark, either.

It’s lots of them.

Their gray shapes are murky dark shadows, milling in the darkening waters, and I know that more of them will come. Even though Aquarathi pheromones are pacifying, all it will take is one drop of our blood to whip things into a violent food frenzy. Not that I’d be at any risk, but all of the others would be...including Lo. So the sooner we get out of there, the better. I look around for the others. Jenna and Sawyer have their arms around each other on shore. Speio, standing near them, is glaring at me.

“No, I don’t see anything,” I lie to Lo, paddling away from him with deft strokes. “But it could be a dolphin or a shark. It’s nearly twilight, feeding time, after all. Think you can make it back without falling and being fish bait?”

My grin is challenging. To my surprise, a slow smile breaks across Lo’s face at my dare. It’s such a swift change from the wariness that it confuses me. Isn’t he afraid? Or have I misinterpreted his expression about the shark?

“You in?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

“See you on the beach, surfer girl.”

Digging my palms into the water, I paddle as fast as I can to get ahead of the next building wave but Lo is right there with me. Exhilarated, I watch him stroke alongside, keeping up with no trouble. His face is determined, but I know that mine is, too.

“Don’t you dare drop in on me!” I yell, grinning.

“You have to catch it first for me to drop in,” he shouts back. “Or do I need to school you on wave etiquette?”

“Just try to catch me!”

We’re neck and neck as the wave fattens, taking both our boards with it in unison as we furiously paddle to keep up with the wave’s speed. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a silvery shimmer on top of the water to my left near Lo just as the wave begins to crest, but it’s gone before I can even blink.

The wave’s pressure builds beneath me, picking up momentum in a matter of breaths. Gripping the sides of my board, I hop to my feet and angle my surfboard across the wave’s face, only to see that Lo is in the exact same position, with a huge grin on his face. Just a few feet apart, we’re flying at the speed of the wind on the same wave, and for a second, we share an incredible moment of perfect synchronicity.

Then the lip of the wave curls over us and we are inside a shimmering tunnel, the outside world visible only through the sheer wall of curling water. I can hear the tremendous roar as seconds merge into one another and time slows to a trickle. Suspended in a moving bubble, we glide along the wave, nothing between us but water and the swell beneath our feet. Every cell in my body is responding to the water rushing around me, so much so that it’s hard to control my Aquarathi instincts, to pull myself in...to not give in to the ocean’s insistent call. I’m tingling from head to toe.

Lo’s eyes catch mine and everything inside me electrifies.

And then the tingles are everywhere, spreading to the tips of my fingers, my neck, my ears, my spine. Frowning, I look away with effort, digging my toes into the deck of my board and leaning forward to skim past his board. I gasp as the front lip of water curls into my neck and my board glides scant inches from his, but then I’m past him and flying upward to rip a cutback along the top of the wave.

When I glance back over my shoulder, he’s still staring at me, a sliver of a smile on his face. His eyes are dark and knowing as if he senses the effect he’s having on me. I turn away, breathing harshly, focused on getting to the beach. I can’t get far enough away from this boy who makes me feel so disconnected, like I’m nothing but liquid around him.

I don’t even care about the threat of the sharks below us. I’m more afraid of Lo than anything else...of the way he makes everything inside me react to him like I’m some kind of puppet on a string. Even now, I can feel him behind me, his presence like a tangible force drawing me to him. For a second, I wonder whether Speio and all the others feel the same way when they have to reveal themselves to me, like the pull of something formidable.

It terrifies me.

It’s kind of absurd that I want to escape the ocean more than anything right now, when it’s been my safe haven forever, just to get my feet on solid ground. There, I won’t be susceptible to the lure of the sea or its gilded fantasies where Lo is concerned. I’m letting the full moon and the embrace of the ocean affect me more than they should.

I let the wave take me almost into the beach to where the others are waiting on the sand, watching over my shoulder as Lo paddles out for another. Avoiding the death glare on Speio’s face, I grab my board and head toward where Jenna is sitting next to Sawyer, looking at the photos she’d taken of him on his last ride.

“Nice pipe,” Sawyer says, high-fiving me. “Amazing that you two were in it at the same time! Sweet!”

“Yeah,” Jenna echoes, waggling her eyebrows and snapping a photo of my face. “Sweet.” I shoot her a nasty glare as I undo the tie from my ankle and wrap it around the tail of the board.

“I think I’m done,” I say.

Sawyer flashes me a disbelieving look and chugs a bottle of water. “Really? One good wave and that’s all you got?”

I nod and lie back on the sand. Better out here than in there. The sharks will move on once they realize I’m gone. Plus, being anywhere near Lo is not a good idea. I can still feel the way his body moved next to mine, see the expression in the endless depths of his eyes...the pull of them like the ocean, compelling and deep. Lo makes me feel more alive than I’ve ever felt. And it scares the heck out of me.

Sawyer looks to Speio. “You in, bro? Come on. Don’t leave me hanging.”

“Sure,” Speio says, grabbing his board and shooting me a look that clearly says I should stay put. I roll my eyes but I have no plans to move. Leaning on my elbows, I watch the boys paddle out, but Lo catches my eye as he rounds the crest of a particularly large wave. Just as he pops up on the board, my heart stops in my chest as the wave starts to close out almost immediately. Even though he’s a capable surfer, nothing but glue or a miracle can keep him upright as the force of a barreling truck bears down on him, throwing him off the board like he’s a piece of lint.

“Ouch,” Jenna says. “Wish I’d gotten a shot of that.” She stares at me with a grin. “Or the look on your face when he fell.”

“Why don’t you shut it and go do something useful?”

“Why so grumpy?”

I shoot her a glare that could incinerate ice, but she ignores me with a wink, walking down the beach to snap some more shots. Scowling, I reach into my backpack for a bottle of water. The wind threatens to rip some of my papers from the top of the bag, and I just manage to grab hold of an escaping flyer that I’d tucked in there the day before. Taking a swig of water, I study the flyer fluttering beneath my fingertips on the sand. It’s from the San Diego Ocean Foundation for a marine conservancy drive event.

I should have been involved in something like this from the day I stepped onto land, but I’ve been so caught up in escaping who I am that I’ve ignored my real responsibilities. Instead, without a care in the world, I’ve enjoyed everything human youth had to offer...while my people paid the price for my freedom. At least now, I can do something worthwhile. I can try to ensure that those who are left in Waterfell have a future.

“Hey, Jenna,” I yell out. “Can I talk to you about something?”

She stops snapping pics and walks over to sit next to me cross-legged on the sand. “Sure. What’s up?”

I don’t need her help, but it would be fun to do it with someone else. “Check this out. There’s an ocean conservancy drive happening in a few weeks, and I want to get involved.”

“Since when are you interested in ocean conservancy?” Jenna’s words aren’t sarcastic, they’re curious, but I can’t help the immediate pang in my belly. She’s right. I haven’t been, when it should have been the one thing that I was interested in. My father had said to stay away, and that’s what I’ve done, playing hockey and pretending to be human here on land. I’ve shirked every responsibility ever given to me and forgotten about the ocean. It’s the only home the Aquarathi have, and all I’ve done is turn my back on it...and on my people. And who knows what Ehmora is planning, now that my father is out of the picture.

“I’m interested now,” I say.

“But what about hockey and practice? It’s not like you have a ton of free time.”

“It won’t interfere, I promise.” I stare at her. “I really need to do this, Jenna. It’s important to me. And I’d be so happy if you wanted to do it with me, but I totally understand if you have too many things on your plate.” I pause. “But I need to.”