“This is South Beach,” Manx explained as the yacht glided along the shore. Humans lingered on the beach: couples walking hand in hand, laughing partiers sitting around a bonfire, children chasing the surf. It was strange to be so close to them. They seemed so happy to be on the beach, near the ocean. It puzzled me.
“They call this the Art Deco district,” Manx explained, gesturing to the shoreline. “The buildings here have unique architecture. Humans can be very creative, like industrious schools of crabs,” Manx said with a laugh.
As the yacht pushed toward land, I saw more people. I caught their scent and could hear their words, their laughter. I don’t know what I expected, but I hadn’t expected them to seem so…normal. There was really nothing menacing about them.
We motored down the coast, then turned from the ocean into the bay, passing under bridges and through narrow straits. The ocean disappeared from view, and soon, we were cruising down a canal between rows of human dwellings. The sweet scent of the ocean faded. Now, all I could smell was the land. The yacht motored toward a secluded stretch where an enormous villa sat along the water. The passengers prepared to debark.
“Welcome home,” Manx told me. “I’ve prepared a suite for you. One of your people, Pangi, has come to assist you. Tonight, we will celebrate your exile. All of the mers in Miami have come to meet my future queen. And tomorrow night, we’ll have our bonding ceremony.”
“So soon,” I said, realizing the moment I said it that it was not a sentiment I should have shared aloud.
I saw an annoyed expression cross Manx’s face. “Do you think you’re too good for the king of the Gulfs?”
I cursed myself for my carelessness. “Not at all. I’d hoped for more time to prepare for the ceremony, to choose my gown,” I lied.
Manx laughed. “You mermaids and your love of beautiful things. Pangi selected something for you. It was Creon’s wish that we wed quickly. Your uncle has his own ways,” he said, then added in a low tone, “but I have secured a future for my people.” It was Manx’s turn to speak a sentiment better left unspoken.
“A future?”
He frowned then nodded. “In the Atlantic. In safety.”
“Then your people are leaving the Gulf? You’re joining our waters?”
“The humans have poisoned our home. The Gulf is killing us. Your uncle and I have brokered an agreement, and I have negotiated our refuge. Now I just need to take care of my part and clean up some old entanglements for your uncle.”
“What does that mean?” At once, my mind returned to the argument I heard between Hal and Creon.
Manx shook his head. “Don’t let it concern you, lovely mermaid. We’ve arrived, and you have a party to prepare for.” The yacht docked at the most enormous house along the strait. The massive white mansion had tall marble columns. A long reflecting pool sided the walkway from the dock to the mansion. Fountains with flickering rainbow lights illuminated the path. The heady scent of flowers filled the air. I could see flashing lights inside the house and hear the thumping sound of human music. The mers of Miami were celebrating in true human style.
The yacht docked, and the mers debarked and headed toward the mansion, all shooting excited glances my way. I debarked the ship and stepped with wobbling legs onto the dock. The Queen Mother waited for us. In the distance, I saw the mamiwata climb into a small fishing boat. Roald gently guided her. Once she was safely aboard, the driver turned on the engine, and the small craft returned to the night. The mamiwata stood leaning against the rail. I could feel her eyes on me.
Roald, too, gazed back at me. Seeing me surrounded by the royals, he turned toward the mansion. He looked frustrated.
“Welcome to Miami, Ink,” the Queen Mother said to me, then turned to Manx. “You’ll make certain sure she is comfortable?”
“Of course. I would hardly leave my bride to linger in a robe.”
She smiled gently at him and then turned back to me. “I’ll leave you for now. My duties in Pensacola call, but I will meet you again soon.”
I bowed to her. “My Lady.”
She took my hand. “You are my daughter now, Ink.”
Like hell, I thought, but I smiled nicely at her. “Then…Mother.”
The old mermaid smiled.
Manx bowed to her and then took my hand. “Let’s go get you cleaned up.”
I stared at the mansion. The lights inside were bright and flashing, the music blaring too loud. This was my life now. I was a drywalker exiled to the nightlife of Miami.