The only reason I can see the rest of the group is because we are swimming across a broad, flat plain. They are so far ahead. Even if I swim as fast as I can, I will not reach them until they stop for the night. Usually Darin would wait for me, but for the first time in four days, he has managed to get Kai to say more than three consecutive words by asking about his trips to acquire dolphins for the royal herd. The result is the two of them swimming together at the front of the group, talking animatedly and oblivious to the world around them. Probably immersed in another discussion of undersea travel.

I’ve been telling Darin for the last week to let me take care of myself, but—unreasonably—his failure to notice my fatigue stings. No one else bothered to hang back and wait for me either.

Ginevra and Conway, for once in their lives not fighting, swim a little way behind Darin and Kai. They are both loaded down with packets of shark meat from a recent hunting expedition, and they are laughing. I think of a story Conway told me about how they once painted squid ink on Ginevra’s little sister’s pillow while she was sleeping so that her hair stuck. The poor girl swam through the palace screeching with a pillow stuck to the back of her head. Are they reminiscing about other childhood pranks?

The Nebulae guards, Baia and Kallan, and the Undulae soldiers, Hurley, Clyde, and Blackwell, swim out of sight, each having gone in a different direction to scout for threats to our party.

Self-pity wells up inside, and I am too tired to squash it back down.

My legs hurt so much.

I can’t help carry the shark meat because I can’t even keep up with nothing weighing me down.

Everyone else has someone to talk to.

This is the most boring scenery I have ever seen.

Stupid, stupid legs.

Frustrated, I kick my legs harder and let out a gasp as a cramp shoots up my left calf. Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip to keep from moaning, I halt, reaching down to massage my spasming limb. As the twitching, stabbing pains begin to subside, I hear a voice behind me.

“The props giving you trouble, love?”

My fingers dig into my calf harder than necessary. Slowly, I straighten and turn to find Blackwell hovering offensively close. Resisting the urge to dart away, I content myself with drifting backward, trying to widen the space between us, but he follows me.

“Scared, spindle-shanks? Tell me, how was your night at the city gates?”

My heart beats a dangerous rhythm against my ribs, but I keep my voice even. “I have no interest in talking to you, Blackwell. And the others will be wondering where I am.” I turn away, keeping him in my peripheral vision, my fingers wrapping tightly around the handle of my knife.

“Nobody is wondering where you are, Crura. Nobody cares.”

I know his words aren’t true. Darin cares. And I think Conway might as well. Yesterday, I swam with Kai and the dolphins. When we parted at the camp, he had said in his gruff voice, “Not many have your gift with creatures.” He’d said nothing else, but his words had warmed my heart, giving me the impression that he, at least, might not view me with the same disdain the Undulae and Nebulae soldiers do.

But Blackwell’s words probe the insecurities that have been plaguing me all day. Gritting my teeth to keep in the words I long to hurl, I continue to swim in the opposite direction, forcing myself to keep going despite the residual pain in my leg.

Fingers close around my arm, and Blackwell jerks me back around. “I’m not finished with you, spindle-shanks!”

Something snaps inside me. I yank my knife out of my pants, slashing toward his face so that he drops my arm and pushes backward in the water, drawing his own knife. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?” My voice is loud and I try to keep it from shaking. “I know you hate me! But why do you have to go out of your way to make my life an embodiment of Oro?”

Blackwell’s visage twists, the scar on it making him look demented. “You’re a freak!” he spits at me, veins standing out in his neck. “You should have died the night you were born! But somehow, you’ve wormed your way into normal society, blinding people to what you really are. Aalto refuses to even consider me as part of his harvesting team, but he treats you like his best friend! Prince Conway has never even acknowledged my existence, but he looks at you like the sun rises and sets in your face!”

“It’s not my fault if other people aren’t as bigoted and small souled as you, Blackwell,” I snap back.

Blackwell’s visage twists again, then his features smooth, and he says in an unrecognizable voice, “Your Highness.”

I spin to see Conway hovering behind us, a wary, questioning expression on his face. “Why aren’t you out scouting, Blackwell?”

“I noticed Miss Locklyn had a leg cramp.” Blackwell’s oily voice causes bile to rise in my throat. “I stopped to see if she was alright.”

Conway glances at me, and I avert my eyes, unwilling to lie and at the same time unwilling to tell tales. I can deal with Blackwell on my own.

After a moment, Conway says, “Very well, but Locklyn appears to be fine now, so you may continue your rounds.”

Blackwell gives him a deep bow, but as he swims away, he catches my eye and mouths, “Watch your back.”

Conway must see my look of disgust because he turns to scowl after Blackwell’s retreating form and says brusquely, “I’ve always hated him. Oily, conniving little suck-up.”

“I’m not overly fond of him myself,” I admit as we begin to swim in the direction of the main group. “Though he has never really tried to suck up to me.” Not entirely true, I realize a second later. The first night he came to my hut, he definitely tried to do just that.

“Really? I thought he might be trying to come on to you just now.”

I stare at Conway incredulously. “Are you crazy? Why under the sea would he be coming on to me?”

Conway rolls his eyes. “Oh, I have no idea.”

Heat rises in my face, so I say quickly, “Well, if you must know, he did try to come on to me once, but since I cut his face open in response, I don’t think he’ll try that again in a hurry.”

Conway gapes at me. Then he bursts out laughing. “Good to know that’s how you reject your suitors. I’ll have to bear that in mind. I quite like my face the way it is, but on the other hand . . .” He grins impishly, and I blush worse than ever.

“Locklyn.” I look up and see Darin, his face dark. My heart sinks. I glance up at Conway and see he is staring at Darin with equal dislike. “Can I talk to you?” Darin says, pointedly ignoring Conway to address me.

“Okay,” I say reluctantly, annoyance simmering. After spending little to no time with me in the last three days, he has to spoil the first lighthearted moment I’ve had today. I follow him, taking in the rigid set of his shoulders. He’s angry about something. Apprehension gnaws with a discomfort worse than my aching legs. Are we about to have another fight?

Once we are at a distance, Darin turns to me. “Why were you so far behind the rest of the group? That’s not safe, Locklyn.”

There is no way I am going to tell him I was so far behind because my legs were hurting. “I’m fine, Darin.”

“That doesn’t change anything, Locklyn. I don’t want you swimming alone again.”

“Well, come and find me next time!” The words burst out, and I glare at him, blinking back brimming tears. My legs hurt, I am exhausted, and a third fight in the last four days appears to be starting. Perfect.

“Believe it or not, I was just about to when I noticed you had other company.” The scorn with which he says the word company infuriates me.

“What is your problem?” I glare at him. “Can’t you just lay off Conway? What has he ever done to you?”

Darin doesn’t answer, but something has hit a nerve. The way he stares off into the water makes me say more quietly, “Darin? What has he ever done to you?”

For another moment, he says nothing, tail flicking irritably back and forth. Then he says tersely, “The first time I met Conway was when I found him stealing a sack of emeralds off a wreck I had discovered.”

My heart falters. I think to ask how he knows Conway was stealing them. Then I realize the prince most certainly was stealing them to use as passage money for Atlantis. I bite my lip. Regardless of his reason, the theft was wrong. But Darin doesn’t know how awful it is to be a Crura or how desperate it can make you. I say cautiously, “I think you might be misjudging him, Darin.”

Darin gapes at me. “Did you hear what I just said, Locklyn? He was stealing. Stealing from his own father.”

“Maybe he needed that treasure. Or thought he did.”

Darin lets out a bark of derisive laughter. “Needed it? For what? A night betting at the octopus wrestling cage? A new crown?”

His ridicule touches an exposed nerve. “Mock away, Darin. You’ve never gone without anything you wanted in your life. Darin Aalto, the famous Schatzi whom all the Mermaids adore, with a big house in the right part of town, connections to the crown, and all the treasure he could ever want.”

For a moment I think he is going to snap back at me, but instead he says, “I shouldn’t have said that. Why do you think I’m misjudging him?”

My eyes fall away from his, and I twist my fingers together, dread pooling in my stomach at the words I know I must say. “I can’t tell you, Darin.”

Darin’s face goes blank. Then before I can say anything else, he turns and swims away without another word.