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“Here goes,” Nick muttered, dipping a tentative sandal into the blue Black Sea. “Brrrr,” he said, though it really wasn’t that cold—not much more than P.R. He turned to Helen, who’d waded in waist-deep. “You okay?”
“Sure,” she said, though she almost looked like she wished she was back in snow.
“Yo,” Nick said to the mermen. He tried not to stare at their tails bobbing beneath the surf.
“Nikólaos, son of Chiron,” one greeted him. “My name is Glaucus. We have vowed to carry you as far as Hyperborea.”
“Isn’t that from Conan?” Nick asked.
Still, he gritted his teeth and plunged in. Two mermen—including Glaucus—stood on their blue tails so that he and Helen could mount their scaly backs.
“Sweet!” Nick shouted, happy to be a rider for once. The only drawback was fishy flesh rubbing against his bare legs.
“Stay still,” said Glaucus, annoyed.
“Sorry,” said Nick. “Trust, I know what it’s like.”
“Hold on,” the merman cried, and they were off, he and his friend acting as mounts as they dashed through the sea.
“Whoo hoo!” Nick cried, clinging to Glaucus’ hair as cold spray hit his face. “You still there?” he yelled to Helen, who nodded and gave him a smile.
Well, Nick thought, if you had to cross the sea and its god hated you, this was the way to be!
“You guys are fast,” Nick called, and, he had to admit, they put his own folk to shame. These dudes could win America’s Cup: without needing a boat. At this rate, Nick thought, they’d be in Hypo-Whatever for lunch . . .
“So, Glaucus,” Nick said, leaning down. He wanted the merman to know that he was more than a ride. “What kind of being are you? A Demi?”
“No, Centaur,” said Glaucus, “I was once a man. But I loved the sea so much that Triton heard my prayer and made me what I am.”
“Whoa,” said Nick. “Don’t you miss your old life?”
“Not really,” answered Glaucus. “In the water, I am free, and can swim all over the world. As a man, I was tied to one place and broke my back to earn drachmas.”
“I hear ya,” Nick said, “being mythical has its plusses. ‘Specially when you can change back.” He grimaced, realizing how rude that was. “I mean—”
“Do not worry, Centaur,” said Glaucus, with something like a fish laugh. “It was I who prayed for this form. There is nothing I’d rather be.”
“Hmm,” said Nick. “In some strange way, I kinda feel the same.”
The sun setting over the sea was a glorious sight. Orange stripes reflected in clouds reminded Nick of P.R. But after some minutes of this, he started to chafe at the bit.
“How much longer?” he asked Glaucus.
“At this rate, forever,” said the merman. “Once Helios descends and boats have left the water, we will quicken our pace.”
“Ah, Helios,” said Nick. “A personal friend of mine.”
“And mine,” added Helen.
Glaucus hadn’t been kidding. As the Black Sea faded . . . to black, Nick could feel the merman’s muscles tense.
“Now!” Glaucus shouted.
Nick felt his head jerk back, a victim of G-force. The mermen stepped up their pace, their tails skidding over water that became a wall of white wake.
“Whoa!” Nick yelled, trying to snap his head forward. Once you settled in, this pace was kinda cool—and boy, was it smooth!
“Alright!” he cried, leaning in like a jockey. If only he could do this on land . . .
The night went by in a flash. When Helios returned, dragging a sleepy sun, the mermen slowed, and, as the spray subsided, Nick saw a coast ahead.
“We’re there,” he cried. “Glaucus, you and your bros are awesome!”
“Thank you,” said the merman. “Now, we must cross the Straits of Bosphorous to get to the Aegean Sea.”
“Think we can slip by?”
“No,” answered Glaucus, “for the city of Constantinople surrounds the straits on both sides. What we need is a diversion.”
“Want Helen to sing?” asked Nick.
Glaucus didn’t answer. He bowed his head and muttered. His prayers, if that’s what they were, caused black clouds to form overhead.
“Come, men,” Glaucus exhorted, “we must cross before the storm breaks.”
They did, at Hypersea speed. Nick never saw Constantinople as it whizzed by in a blur. Oh well, he thought, maybe another time . . .
Having left the city behind, the mermen slowed along with the storm. Nick couldn’t believe it as rain, wind, and whitecaps receded as fast as they’d come.
“Wow,” he breathed to Glaucus. “Did you bring the storm?”
“Oh, no,” said the merman, “Triton.” He turned to his three friends. “We may now take time to eat.”
“Yay,” Nick answered. He could hardly wait for crab, maybe even a nice lobster!
The two mermen without riders dove beneath the waves. Before long, they resurfaced, and Nick saw that each held three fish. After handing out their catch, they tore into their own with their teeth.
“So, this is like . . . poke?” Nick asked.
Helen shrugged.
“Why don’t you use your sword?”
Nick brought it out, doing the best he could to mimic his favorite sushi chef. With one-millionth the skill, he managed to slice off small cubes.
“Here’s to not dying,” he said, handing some over to Helen. “Kanpai!”
They both popped in a piece.
“This is great,” Nick told Glaucus. “A dash of wasabi, some rice, and you’ve got a restaurant.”
“Let’s move on,” said Glaucus, nodding toward his men. “After dark, we should be rounding Mýthos.”
He was as good as his word. They went at their daytime pace while the sun rose and then descended. When Helios dragged his captive below the western horizon, it was Merman Time.
“Now!” Glaucus cried, and again, they were off.
Nick managed to snack on his poke as they roared through the Aegean. Between massive sprays of wake, he spied the full moon above. Was that a good sign, or . . . ?
By the time the sun came up again, Nick could see a land mass behind them.
“Mýthos,” said Glaucus. “Home.”
“Yes,” echoed Helen, and Nick wished he could join them. Though he felt a pang, he knew he wasn’t from there, even though he was Greek. One thing he liked, he thought, and maybe it was his heritage, was to be on the open sea. This brought up a question.
“So,” he said to Glaucus, “How come Poseidon isn’t blasting you with his triton?”
“The oceans are vast,” said the merman. “Poseidon cannot know all. And he is more concerned with the depths.”
“Not when it comes to me.”
“Be careful,” Glaucus told him. “You could not have a worse enemy. Except for Zeus or Hera.”
“Whose apples I’m trying to steal.”
“I wish you luck, Centaur. If she finds you, it will go badly.”
“I hear she was mean to Herc.”
“She is the kind of goddess who delights in revenge.”
“Good to know,” said Nick. “But was it?
They continued to cruise along at relaxed daytime speed. All Nick could see was water, without a hint of land.
“What’s our next stop?” he asked.
“We round Sicily,” said Glaucus, and Nick could feel him shudder. “Let us hope Typhon isn’t awake to greet us.”
“Right,” said Nick. He could picture Mount Etna blowing its literal top. “Any chance we can go faster?”
Glaucus shook his head. He sent his men down for more fish. Greek sushi, Nick thought: maybe he should open a restaurant . . .
That night, Typhon lay still, for when the merman slowed, Nick saw a long coast in the distance—one with no sign of smoke.
“Hyper-whatevs?” he asked hopefully.
“Yes,” said Glaucus. “Hyperborea. That is your destination.”
“Yay.”
After so much time in the water, Nick felt like a fish himself. He watched Glaucus and his blue-skinned mermen as they powered their way past an island.
“One more night,” said Glaucus, “and we shall set close to the mountains.”
“Thanks,” said Nick. “Trust, we’ll never forget you. Just hope you don’t get your tails whupped by . . . you know . . .”
When Nick woke the next morning, he saw Glaucus leading the others straight toward a placid bay. Skimming the water with their tails, the mermen took them as far as they could.
“You guys rock!” Nick yelled, feeling sad that the ride was over. He shook Glaucus’ hand. “You’ve redeemed your whole species.”
“As have you,” said the merman. “I’ve a new respect for centaurs.”
“Thank you,” Helen said to her ride, kissing him on the brow. His face went from blue to green.
The two of them stood waist-deep as they watched the sea creatures go.
“I’ll miss them,” said Helen.
“Me too,” answered Nick. “Glaucus is my first real friend.”
