fought, I continued to stew. Why was I even here? Dad had no idea the ignorant fool he left me with, spewing asinine propaganda and running crappy drills with weapons we’d never use. If it weren’t for Badger’s company, I didn’t know how I’d survive.
Once we arrived at Badger’s house, I felt less heated and glad we decided to talk in private. Over the day, more questions came to mind, including if he heard any news about Dad.
Badge curled his toes and blew smoke circles while draining his Guinness—something Sandy must have scored last time she visited the mainland.
“Aye, man. I don’t even know where to start. Weren’t ye even partly curious about yer own folk?”
I shifted in my seat and looked at the ground; my orange juice suddenly tasted tart in my mouth. “Not really.”
“Let me see.” Badge leaned back and closed his eyes. “It was back in the spring of 1693. Frederick and Marta Fairchild were charged with the Montauk gate. Why, I don’t know. They weren’t the sharpest tools in the shed. It started out innocent, as they got real friendly with the neighbor folk. But after a bout of the fever, Frederick took to healin’ the people with his secret elixir, our blood hidden in tomato juice.
“Word got out about the cure and more people flocked into town needin’ help. Everythin’ went smooth until people began demandin’ the recipe, showin’ up at all times of the day and night. Of course the mer weren’t around durin’ the night, which started the folk questionin’ but finally someone caught them drainin’ their blood which made a hash of everythin’.
“Only thing they could do was mind-wipe the town and disappear. The gate was sealed, and Frederick and Marta were never heard from again. Rumor has it, they were stripped of their mer and forced to live as humans.”
I looked down at the ground. We weren’t healing anyone, but we were pretty active in the community with our charter business. If this was such a huge fear, why were we allowed to do so? “Are we the only family who lives on land?”
“As far as I know. Most mer guardin’ a gate are scared of losin’ their fins so they stick close to Natatoria. But Jack is a different lot. The Council likes for him to keep tabs of what’s goin’ on up there.”
I laughed under my breath and tried to keep from squirming in my seat. How could we be the only family who lived on land? Was that why Uncle Alaster wanted our gate so badly? Colin had said someone noticed we were getting too friendly. Was he purposely spreading rumors to get us kicked out? To get our fins taken from us?
I gulped, suddenly weighted with the responsibility. The King could, in all honesty, frown on Tatch’s friendship with Ash. I could lose Tahoe.
“But it be nothin’ to worry about.” Badger scratched his beard. “Azor’s off his nutter. No one’s goin’ to be so daft to do that again. But still, let the plonker blather with his gammy and fake like you be on his side.”
I’d assumed something completely different—like a band of rebel mers threatened to overtake the palace and start a new reign or something. That would make more sense after Azor’s speech, spoken to mermen who never left Natatoria. A javelin couldn’t compete with a torpedo or a gun. Mind-wiping would be our only defense against humans.
“Yeah, sure.” I stared at the painting of Badger’s old ship, anxious to change the subject. I liked things better when I didn’t know the truth. “Do you know were my dad went?”
“No, lad.” He shrugged. “I haven’t got a baldy.”
I assumed “baldy” meant he didn’t know. “So you’re good friends?”
“Aye.” Badger sat up to pour himself another stout. “I suspect if I weren’t one of the bottom feeders, he’d a took me with him.”
I squinted, working hard to follow his Irish slang.
Badger sighed and bowed his head. “Son, there be some right ole hoors who don’t be trustin’ us turned folk.
Once we arrived at Badger’s house, I felt less heated and glad we decided to talk in private. Over the day, more questions came to mind, including if he heard any news about Dad.
Badge curled his toes and blew smoke circles while draining his Guinness—something Sandy must have scored last time she visited the mainland.
“Aye, man. I don’t even know where to start. Weren’t ye even partly curious about yer own folk?”
I shifted in my seat and looked at the ground; my orange juice suddenly tasted tart in my mouth. “Not really.”
“Let me see.” Badge leaned back and closed his eyes. “It was back in the spring of 1693. Frederick and Marta Fairchild were charged with the Montauk gate. Why, I don’t know. They weren’t the sharpest tools in the shed. It started out innocent, as they got real friendly with the neighbor folk. But after a bout of the fever, Frederick took to healin’ the people with his secret elixir, our blood hidden in tomato juice.
“Word got out about the cure and more people flocked into town needin’ help. Everythin’ went smooth until people began demandin’ the recipe, showin’ up at all times of the day and night. Of course the mer weren’t around durin’ the night, which started the folk questionin’ but finally someone caught them drainin’ their blood which made a hash of everythin’.
“Only thing they could do was mind-wipe the town and disappear. The gate was sealed, and Frederick and Marta were never heard from again. Rumor has it, they were stripped of their mer and forced to live as humans.”
I looked down at the ground. We weren’t healing anyone, but we were pretty active in the community with our charter business. If this was such a huge fear, why were we allowed to do so? “Are we the only family who lives on land?”
“As far as I know. Most mer guardin’ a gate are scared of losin’ their fins so they stick close to Natatoria. But Jack is a different lot. The Council likes for him to keep tabs of what’s goin’ on up there.”
I laughed under my breath and tried to keep from squirming in my seat. How could we be the only family who lived on land? Was that why Uncle Alaster wanted our gate so badly? Colin had said someone noticed we were getting too friendly. Was he purposely spreading rumors to get us kicked out? To get our fins taken from us?
I gulped, suddenly weighted with the responsibility. The King could, in all honesty, frown on Tatch’s friendship with Ash. I could lose Tahoe.
“But it be nothin’ to worry about.” Badger scratched his beard. “Azor’s off his nutter. No one’s goin’ to be so daft to do that again. But still, let the plonker blather with his gammy and fake like you be on his side.”
I’d assumed something completely different—like a band of rebel mers threatened to overtake the palace and start a new reign or something. That would make more sense after Azor’s speech, spoken to mermen who never left Natatoria. A javelin couldn’t compete with a torpedo or a gun. Mind-wiping would be our only defense against humans.
“Yeah, sure.” I stared at the painting of Badger’s old ship, anxious to change the subject. I liked things better when I didn’t know the truth. “Do you know were my dad went?”
“No, lad.” He shrugged. “I haven’t got a baldy.”
I assumed “baldy” meant he didn’t know. “So you’re good friends?”
“Aye.” Badger sat up to pour himself another stout. “I suspect if I weren’t one of the bottom feeders, he’d a took me with him.”
I squinted, working hard to follow his Irish slang.
Badger sighed and bowed his head. “Son, there be some right ole hoors who don’t be trustin’ us turned folk.
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