I was wearing Kona’s robe. The idea made me tingle all over, but I kept my tone casual as I thought, Thanks.

My pleasure. Although you really don’t have to cover up on my account.

Already been there, dude. And it so isn’t happening.

Is that a dare? His voice was lower, huskier, than it had been a few moments before. Chills shot up my spine, but they weren’t the bad kind. Of course, with Kona, they almost never were. That was the problem.

Doesn’t sound like a problem to me.

Kona!

All right, all right. My room’s on the fourth floor. It’s the last door on your right.

Are you sure Alfred won’t mind me heading up unescorted?

Alfred? He seemed confused—obviously not a Batman fan. But then he didn’t have to be. He was living his own secret life.

I almost explained the reference to him, but kind of liked the fact that I knew something he didn’t for once—even if it was only a stupid superhero allusion.

Come on up. I’ve been waiting for you.

Interesting, since I’ve been imagining you dead, your body devoured by hungry sea animals.

Yeah. He had the grace to sound uncomfortable. I’m really sorry about that.

I refused to say the patented it’s okay, because obviously it wasn’t. I had swum all night—into the very depths of the frickin’ Pacific Ocean. My dad was probably frantic, or at least devastated, and I was on some alternate-reality island that didn’t exist in the real world.

No, things were definitely not okay.

I headed up the staircase, yanking on the robe as I did so I wouldn’t trip on the stupid thing. It was way too long for me and I had visions of tumbling down the stairs to my death—or at least one heck of a concussion.

Still, I felt totally girly all wrapped up in it. At almost six feet tall, I hadn’t felt dainty since kindergarten, but Kona was about five inches taller than me and really well muscled. Next to him, I actually looked like something besides a throwback to the Amazons.

I got to the third-floor landing and headed up one more flight of stairs to Kona’s room. As I climbed, I became aware of the tapestry that ran the length of the second staircase. It was huge, its colors muted—by time or design, I didn’t know. But if I’d had to guess, I would say that it was time. The thing looked really old.

A little curl of excitement unwound inside of me as I realized that even in this alternate world, people created art. Maybe I wouldn’t have to give up my painting after all …

I cut off the thought, nowhere close to considering being a mermaid for life. Then I started to rush past the tapestry, figuring I could check it out later. I wanted to see Kona with my own eyes, to make sure he was as okay as he sounded.

And I wanted answers. A lot of answers. I had more questions than I could count.

But slowly the story on the tapestry seeped into my consciousness and I paused to get a better look at the thing. It was an underwater scene, though in the distance stood Kona’s castle, rising out of the water and into the clouds. In the forefront was a major battle. I stared at it as a sick kind of fascination unwound inside of me.

In the center of the tapestry was a great, ugly sea monster—slimy and gray and multitentacled. In each of its—I paused to count—twenty-three tentacles, the thing held a mermaid or a human or one of these black, sea lion–type creatures I’d seen near the ocean’s bottom.

One of the tentacles was halfway to its huge gaping mouth and I realized that in it he held a headless mermaid with an emerald tail and green tattoos across her shoulders.

Gross.

In the water around the monster were thirty or forty of the same human and semihuman creatures locked in battle with other humanlike creatures with gray skin and pointy features, as well as ones that were half octopus. I thought with distaste of the huge garden of octopuses I had swum through earlier and wondered if they’d had the ability to morph into the things I was presently looking at.

One woman—or mermaid, really—stood out from the rest. She was bearing down on the disgusting sea monster, a jeweled sword in one hand and a lightning bolt in the other. Her long hair was streaming behind her and purple tattoos covered her back and ran down her arms.

She seemed familiar and I squinted, trying to get a better look at her face. But it wasn’t well defined, despite the clarity of the rest of the tapestry. As I studied her, I couldn’t help wondering if she had won the battle being depicted—or if she had fallen to the creature like so many of her people. Their bodies littered the water and ocean floor around the terrible beast.

“So, you like the Lusca?”

I jumped at the voice so close to me, nearly fell down after trying so hard to avoid it. Probably would have, if Kona hadn’t reached out and grabbed me, pulling me against his warm bare chest.

“Whoa, sorry.”

“I thought you were in bed.” I pushed against him, trying to get free. It felt entirely too good to be standing so close.

“You were taking so long I wondered if you’d gotten lost.” His wild silver eyes gleamed down at me.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t expecting you to be skulking around the hallways.” I shoved at his shoulders again and this time he let me go. I looked at him for a minute, shocked at how relieved I was to see him. He looked good—really good, especially considering the fact that I’d spent part of the previous night giving him CPR. The wound on his chest had closed up, a long, pinkish scar the only evidence that he had nearly died less than twenty-four hours before. Amazing.

He caught me looking. “My people heal quickly.”

“Obviously.” I wanted to ask who his people were, what they were. If he wasn’t a mermaid like me, then what was he? But I didn’t know how to start, so I settled for, “You look different. Kind of—” I stopped myself before I could say glowy, but that definitely was what I was thinking. He was giving off a silvery light so bright that it looked like he had swallowed the moon.

He grinned like he knew exactly what I meant. “It’s the water.”

“Right. The water.” I paused. “What does that mean?”

“It’s dark under the sea, so after we’ve been in the water for a while we give off light, so we can see each other.”

“So, you glow.”

He winced. “That isn’t exactly how I would describe it. More like a phosphorescent reaction to—”

“You glow.”

“All right. Yes. We glow. But don’t get too cocky—you look different too.”

“Yeah, like a drowned rat.”

“More like a flower about to open.” He paused. “I’m sorry. That was totally lame.”

“No. It was …” I burst out laughing. “Yeah, pretty lame.” But sweet too, especially coming from a guy like Kona. I’d been around him long enough to know he didn’t just say things like that—ever. Plus, the faint blush on his cheeks was kind of endearing.

“So, what’s a Lusca?” I asked, searching for a way to change the subject.

“That is.” He nodded to the tapestry. “He’s one of Tiamat’s enforcers. A giant octopus-type creature that lives underground. He comes out every once in a while, gorges himself on our blood and causes as much trouble as he can, then heads back underground until she needs him again.”