Sand. I felt sand under my palms and knees. I lifted my head, taking a huge gasp of air. I’d nearly drowned trying to rise to the surface.
That’s what you get for transforming too early, Tri!
I lay there for a while, breathing heavily. The water and air were so cold on my legs, without the insulation of my scales. Everything felt so strange, but as the colors of the sunset faded, I knew it was time.
Best get a move on, Tri.
I forced myself to get up, still feeling wobbly as I planted one foot in the sand, then the other. I stood in the shallows, looking in both directions before I started forward, heading toward the cave in the cliff’s walls.
And promptly fell over.
Okay. Walking on land is a lot harder than it was underwater.
I’d practiced, of course, but in the Academy and not on the seabed. Not on sand. And dry sand was much more treacherous than hard-packed wet sand, I was rapidly discovering. I glared at the yellow granules in front of my face and slowly managed to stand up again. I took a few steps before I fell over again, this time catching myself on my hands and knees.
A stick, Tri. Get a stick.
I crawled toward a promising-looking piece of driftwood, only to have it crumble in my hand. I tried another, but it was just a stretch of drying seaweed. After crawling all over the place like a deranged sea witch, I finally found a good candidate.
The only problem was, so had the crabs.
“Ouch!”
I refused to release the stick in my hand as the tiny pincers bit into my hand. Another was dangling off my forearm. I batted them away, hopping up and down and shouting at them.
“This is an auspicious beginning,” I grumbled as I hobbled gracelessly toward the cave. Once inside, I heaved a sigh of relief. My Spark-in-training uniform felt heavy and wet. Wet clothes, I thought to myself with a frown. What a concept for a Mermaid.
I plopped down on a carved stone bench and closed my eyes. It was odd how uncomfortable wet clothes were, considering I’d only ever worn wet clothes my entire life. But being up here in the cool night air made it a completely different story.
When I opened my eyes again, I saw it. Hanging on a peg across from me. Another Spark uniform. I padded over on my strange feet and touched it. Further back, nearly hidden in the shadows, there was another. It looked like a bundle of rags. I touched it and it dissolved. Clearly, it belonged to someone who had not come back.
Gulp.
But Marcum had said I would be back. I would see my home again. I would see my friends. I believed him.
“Triton, I am stepping into some very big shoes,” I whispered, proud of myself for using a two-legger phrase and ignoring the utter terror I was feeling at the thought of dying alone on dry land.
“Well, better get to it,” I said decisively, pulling the outer layer of my uniform up and over my head. I hung it carefully on an empty peg and then removed my soggy tunic and undergarments. I touched my mother’s pendant and walked back toward the bench and my backpack, opening it and removing the plastic bag.
I still could not get over how weird the plastic felt. I knew it was one of the worst pollutants two-leggers had dumped into the beautiful Sea, but it clearly had its uses. Everything inside was completely dry.
Two-legger science. It’s kind of like magic.
I stared at a pair of underpants before sliding them over my legs and standing up to put them into place. Okay. That’s nice and warm, I thought. Then I put on a camisole and socks.
“Even better,” I sighed, wiggling my now-warm toes.
I reached in again and found a pair of blue pants, also known as jeans. I sat down and pulled them over my legs. The fabric was soft but heavy and moved with me when I experimented with some fighting moves.
Speaking of which, did they give me a weapon?
I dug through the pack, which contained more than it looked like but no weapon to speak of. My mother’s dress, though, looked as if it had been shortened to fit my legs instead of the entire length of my tail and fins. A pair of shoes with laces that I struggled with but finally conquered. There were pull-on boots made of a soft leather that made me sigh in pleasure when I stroked them and a pair of fancier-looking shoes with a heel that made me giggle. I can barely walk on sand. How am I supposed to walk on stilts? I thought with a snort. There was a silk skirt that looked like it would hang around my ankles, a dress in a pretty red pattern, another pair of denim pants, several thin short-sleeved shirts, and one with long sleeves made out of a similar material to my jeans. And another, extremely soft long-sleeved shirt with a cross-woven pattern in dark blue and green.
Plaid. This is plaid.
I shrugged that on, grabbing a dark green vest and putting everything else back where it came from. Miraculously, it all fit. Not miraculously. Magically. Clearly, Annaruth had spelled the backpack to hold all of my belongings. “So Mer magic does work on land,” I whispered with a relieved nod. That meant I did have weapons, though hopefully, I would never need them. The Spark was supposed to work diplomatically, if at all possible, although physical force was definitely still on the table.
I stared at the rolled paper money, then took a small amount and folded it into my pocket. I had a general idea of how money worked, but the value was still a fuzzy concept at best. We usually traded with other Mers, and those who could afford to simply purchase paid in gold, silver, jewels and most often, pearls.
Hopefully, I’d be able to figure out how to negotiate two-legger style. I took a last look around the cave, ignoring the strong urge to simply spend the night here.
But my rumbling belly had other ideas.
I pulled on my pack, grabbed my stick, and headed out, looking for the path that led up through the cliffs.