“Ready?” Dad glances at me from behind his new hand of cards.
I want to say no, but instead I sit up straighter. “Bring it on.”
So, I lay the first card down, then another. He flips down two in a row. It becomes another frenzy, where I’m reacting more than actually thinking. Barely have time to process the cards and slam them down in time.
Finally, I discard my last one. He has two more in his hand. I think that means I won.
He lets go of his remaining cards, and they float to the table. “We have a winner!”
The crowd erupts into applause, and the noise is deafening. I want to collapse, but before I’m allowed even the luxury of imagining it, my dad moves over to another board game. It looks similar to chess. He explains the game of strategy, and it sounds far more complicated than chess—which I could handle. I’ve been in tournaments before and even won some of them. But this game makes the land game look like child’s play.
He offers me the first move, but I decline. I need to get a feel for this first, and the complicated rules he just laid out are swimming through my mind. He grabs a gold piece shaped like a trident and moves it in a u-shape around some of his other pieces. He glances at me, like it’s clearly my turn.
I grab for a piece shaped like a sea star, but Dad clears his throat. The expression in his eyes tells me no. Hopefully none of the cameras capture that, as I’m pretty sure that could be construed as cheating, even from the king. I reach for a sea urchin, and Dad relaxes his expression. I move it in a zigzag shape, pretty sure that’s what he said to do with those. We continue on, with him clearing his throat or shooting glares at me if I’m about to make a bad move. And he gets away with all of it since the large screens only show the board itself and there are no microphones on us.
Before long, I capture his coral piece. He gives me a look like he’s proud of me. I hope that means he knows what a ridiculous position I’m in. Forced to not only play but win four games in a row that I’ve never even heard of before today—in front of our whole kingdom.
Seriously crazy. Yet here I am.
The game starts to make more sense as we move along. He takes some of my pieces and I get some of his. It’s a heated back and forth, but he continues to throw me subtle clues for which I’m grateful. Any other opponent, and I’d be stuck out of luck.
Does that mean I don’t deserve to win?
Of course not. Sirena was deeply familiar with these intellectual games.
I glance over at my trident, surprised at the answer but also appreciative. No time to react, I have a game to win, and Dad has two more of my pieces than I have of his. He may be willing to help me, but he isn’t making it easy. Not by a long shot.
We carry on, and after what feels like forever, we’re both down to one piece. His is a merman and mine a shark. We move the pieces around the board, attacking and avoiding, but neither capturing the game-winning piece. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he actually wanted to win. Maybe he’s just trying to give Valora’s people a good game to watch. He hasn't given me any clues in a while. Perhaps this last leg is truly about skill. Either way, I’m going to have to give this my all if I want the win. It’s clear I’m going to have to earn it, which is the point of the trials anyway.
The back and forth goes on until my eyelids start growing heavy. Until I’d rather sleep than keep going. I don’t care about Queen Sirena’s powers or these trials.
Yet here I am, and not even one-third of the way through. Almost, but it feels lightyears away at this point. Dad and I dart the pieces around the board for what has to be at least a hundred moves. Probably more. It won’t surprise me if he calls a draw and we have to start over again.
Do the zig-zag move on him now.
I give my weapon a double-take before turning my attention to the board. And it’s a brilliant move. It’ll block him from any of his power moves, then I can take him after that. I do the move, and Dad gasps.
“Didn’t even see that. Good work.”
If only I could take the credit, but there isn’t any rule against working with my trident. In fact, it’s expected, and I’m pretty sure that was how Queen Sirena did it—at least in part.
You’d better believe it.
Dad moves his piece diagonally one space. I swoop in with my shark and take his last piece.
The crowd erupts louder than before, and Dad pulls me into a hug, squeezing me tightly. When the noise subsides, he congratulates me for passing the first of the three trials. “Now it’s time for a break. I think we’re all ready to stretch our tails. We will return in thirty minutes for the second trial. One that will be even more intense than this first one.”
Dad escorts me to my dressing room. I hope I’m allowed to come back before the third trial. It’s the only way I’ll be able to pull off my plan not to kill him at the end of the third trial. But I don't have time to think about that yet.
I have the second trial to get through first. However, before that I want a nap. I rest my trident against the wall, collapse onto the couch, and give in to my heavy eyelids. Sleep quickly takes over, and I’m inundated with images of game pieces and playing cards dancing around a fire-breathing sea dragon. Even in my dreams I’m aware that a sea creature wouldn’t be able to produce flames, but that doesn’t make the image any less scary.
“Time for your next trial.” Dad’s voice breaks through the wild images.
I force my eyes open. “I thought I had a half an hour break.”
“You did.” He squeezes my shoulder.
“Doesn't feel like it.” I groan.
“Are you ready?”
“Are you kidding?”
He sits next to me. “You did fantastic! Even though you’ve never played any of those games, you beat them all.”
I rub my eyes. “Am I facing a sea dragon next?”
“You can’t know what you’re facing before you go in.”
“I know what the last trial is.”
“True,” he admits. “But that’s because you were digging around ahead of time. However, you don’t know all the details.”
And neither does he. I have a plan of my own, and he won’t see it coming. “I’ll get to rest again after the next trial?”
“Of course. You’ll have a full half hour, just like this time.”
“Isn’t that nice?” Since I’ll be getting ready for my surprise, I won’t be able to sleep. But that’s a price I’m willing to pay to keep my dad alive. He may trust his servants to bring him back, but I don’t. I’ve hardly had any time to spend with him since he showed up.
He gestures toward my trident. “Let’s head back out.”
“Or we could go back to land.”
“You don’t want to finish the trials?”
“I’m exhausted already.”
“Did you have anything to eat or drink?”
I shake my head, my eyelids growing heavy again. “Only interested in sleep.”
“You’re going to need to be at the top of your game for the upcoming trials.” He piles food onto a plate and hands it to me.
“Aren’t we supposed to head back out?” I take a bite.
“It can hardly begin without you. The people will be fine waiting a few extra minutes.”
“Okay.” I scarf the food down, and feel some energy returning. Not as much as I’d hoped for, but at least it’s something. I still want to nap for a week, but that isn’t going to happen anytime soon. Not when I’m most likely about to face one of the fiercest and rarest underwater creatures known to merpeople.
No big deal.
Dad takes my plate as soon as I finish the food. “Grab your trident.”
I do, and I try not to think about what I’m about to face—or the fact that it could kill me. On the bright side, he has people waiting and ready to revive him, so they could probably bring me back to life if it came down to that. Maybe. If I’m lucky.
We make our way back to the arena, which now has the platform removed. At least there isn’t a sea dragon waiting for me. The only thing is a microphone in the dead center.
I shudder at my choice of words.
The noisy crowd quiets as we make our way to the mic. Dad taps on it and waits for silence. “Marra has made it through the first of Queen Sirena’s trials. Now she will use her trident and magic to defeat a rare and dangerous sea creature. Are you ready?”
The audience goes wild.
A set of doors opens on the opposite side from where we came in. Five burly mermen come out, each clinging to a chain. Attached to the metal links is a green-and-blue-finned dragon with two heads, struggling to break free.
Dad turns to me. “Your job is to kill it.”
My stomach lurches.