-1CHAPTER SEVEN

All right, so it was a little girly. But he had seaweed on his head. Drippy wet green seaweed with seashells stuck in clusters around his ears. My mind had been off in the far reaches of somewhere, and I still knew little of Merlana. It could have been a monster.

But no: it was a man, or rather a young man, a few years older than I. His eyes were bluish-gray, with hair --- what I could see of it through the hat of slime --- probably once brown but bleached a nondescript color by the sun, and features well-tanned and expressive. He held up a hand quickly.

"Forgive me, I didn't intend to frighten you," he said. His accent was refined and musical, like everyone else's here. I examined the headgear a moment before answering.

"It's okay," I said at last. I had to admit to myself a slight embarrassment, but resolved not to show it. There was an awkward pause, and then he started slightly and pulled the stuff off.

"I'm sorry," he said, an amused smile crossing his features. "I forgot I had this on." Gently, he tossed it to the water's edge, where it lapped against the shore. His hair was splotchily wet. "I can see how that might be alarming. You must be the princess," he added. To my disappointment, he bowed. I repressed a sigh.

"You don't have to do that," I said. "Yes, I'm Marina; no, I'm probably not supposed to be out here; yes, you can go turn me in."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he said. "Anyway, you're perfectly safe here."

"What a relief," I said dryly.

"I'm Eran."

"Nice to meet you. If you don't mind my asking, what was the slime for?"

He didn't say anything, but walked down to the shore. He beckoned me to follow. When I was there, he crouched down and put his hand into the water, resting lightly on the surface. "I'm a sea shephard," he said, as though that explained everything.

"Yeah, what is that, any---"

He shushed me, shaking his head, his eyes to the side as though he were listening for something. After a moment of silence, he said, "You're not happy about being here, are you?"

"No."

"Mm," he said noncommitally. "And the seaweed was mostly there to hold the shells, which were talking to me."

Okay. The dude was clearly nuts. Just my luck. First, I had to be a princess of a magic-infested ocean-obsessed island. Then I had to be an idiot and think that I might be able to get away from the castle for two minutes. Then I just had to go run into some schizo lunatic on the beach. Not just be any lunatic, of course. That wouldn't be Merlan enough. No, he had to be a lunatic who talked to seashells.

"Talking to you," I repeated after a long pause.

"Mm-hm," he said. "Nothing particularly interesting, but one of them just came in from the coast of Sweden and was telling about its journey." He looked completely serious. I nodded.

"That's really cool," I said. "Really. But I've got to be getting back. I'm sure it's time for dinner, or... something." I turned to go, but he laughed and caught my hand. Cliche as it sounds, the touch send a shiver up my spine. I wasn't sure whether to be interested or freaked out.

"I forget, you're not used to all of this," he said. "Being newly arrived and all."

I didn't answer, and, after several moments of facing my skeptical expression, he let go of my hand. "Sit down," he said, "and I'll explain." I hesistated; he smiled. Finally I shrugged. What else did I have to do? Go practice my curtsies? I sat, making a point of not being too feminine about it. It was a little rebellion, but I had to make it.

"So?" I said after a minute.

"So, I'm a sea shephard. Do you know what that is?"

"Someone to talks to the ocean. I have yet to determine whether they were speaking literally or metaphorically."

"Quite literally," he said. "Although the language is primarily intuitive. I challenge anyone apply grammar to it."

"Thanks, I'll pass."

He nodded. "Wise. So I can talk to her, and along with all that comes specific training in interpretation and control and that sort of thing, which is what distinguishes the shephards from everyone else. Once you can understand the ocean, you can understand the snails --- thus my hat --- and clams and fish and whales and everything else that lives within her. You may have noticed that no one here eats meat or fish. That's because many of us can speak to them. It'd be cannibalistic."

I leaned back onto my palms and looked out over the waves. He surveyed me a moment.

"What's wrong?"

"Why don't you ask that crab?" I asked sharply. He didn't seem put off by my tone, just glanced around until he saw the creature. It was tiny, scuttling along the sand, and he leaned over and stared intently at it. After a moment he laughed, looked over at me, and then back to the crab.

"What did it say?" I asked, eyebrow raised.

He shook his head. "I'm not sure I ought to say."

"Try me."

He paused, then said, "He thinks it's because you're new to Merlana and aren't accustomed to wearing a corset. Though he --- and I, for that matter --- have little experience with them, they're rumored to be uncomfortable."

"I couldn't say," I said. "And this dress doesn't involve one, since you seem so fascinated by the subject." I started to stand. Moron.

"No, please stay," he said quickly, reaching for my hand again. I pulled it away. "I told you I wasn't sure I should repeat it."

I examined him briefly. He didn't seem to be trying to be insolent... just honest, in the same way Pearl was, and a bit clueless, in the way boys were.

"I don't think my question has been answered," he continued, when I didn't seem to be running away. "What's the matter? You're not happy."

"Very perceptive of you," I said. I didn't deign to explain it to him, partly because I didn't have the words at my disposal.

"So?"

"I don't want to be here."

This seemed to puzzle him, for he frowned slightly and said, "Why not?"

"I'm supposed to be a princess," I said slowly. "Do you have any idea what that entails? Because I don't. I don't want to be a princess. I was about to go to college. I was going to become... I don't know what I was going to become, but it wasn't this."

He didn't say anything. He thought about what I had said, then shrugged and stood up.

"Come here," he said.

"Where?"

"C'mere," he repeated. I stood and followed him down the beach a ways until we came to a large, flat rock, a few feet into the water. He waded in until he reached it, then climbed on top and sat down, cross-legged. After a moment's hesitation, I lifted my skirts and followed. Having made it to the rock with minimal wetness, I spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to arrange my clothing so that it wouldn't get soaked when I sat down and settled next to him. He held his hand out over the water and nodded at me to do the same. Feeling a bit stupid, I did.

"What is this supposed to be doing?" I asked after a moment. He glanced sideways at me.

"You're not very patient, are you?"

"No."

"Just wait a moment," he said. "Quiet your mind."

"It's not feeling very quiet."

"Maybe it will if you stop talking," he said. I narrowed my eyes in a juvenile sort of way and then ignored him.

A few moments later, just when I thought I was about to head back to the palace, where people were sane, at least, if idiotic, odd tingles started going up my arm. It wasn't the sensation of a limb falling asleep, but rather as though someone were trailing their nails in quick patterns up and down my arm. I started and turned to Eran, but he smiled and motioned me to be silent. A breeze picked up and started blowing my hair, and the water around the rock quivered in unwonted patterns. A moment later, the water rushed up around us with a roar. I jumped back and ran into Eran, who held very still and silent. In a moment, the roar had ceased and been replaced by a gentle gurgling. I stared.

A wall of water had risen around us, glassy smooth and translucent, to form an egglike dome above our heads. Bits of sand trickled up and down the walls, shimmering in the sun, and through the water could be seen rippling sand and sky. I looked at Eran, who was watching me with a pleased expression on his face.

"What ---" I started, but he cut me off with a gesture.

"Listen."

I did. At first all was quiet, and then I heard a soft, distant voice. It was hollow and deep and exquisite, very female and very beautiful. I couldn't tell if it was singing or speaking.

"What is it?" I asked in the softest voice I could. He smiled.

"Marea," he said. "The sea."

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"What happened to you?" Lisette asked. She had come up to dress me for dinner, although I tried not to think of it like that; the phrase alone made me feel like a Barbie. "You're covered in sand."

"Am I?"

I knew the innocent voice wouldn't work with her. It never had. She lifted my skirt and looked at the hem. "This is wet."

"Oh, my. Wonder how that happened."

"Where'd you go?"

There was no use denying anything. I hoped she was in a forgiving mood... or that my newfound social status would involve perks for this kind of situation. Not-being-able-to-get-in-trouble-with-a-mere-lady-of-the-realm kind of perks.

"The beach," I said. "I needed to get out."

"Which one?"

"Down on the... the right side of the castle. If you're facing the front."

"Oh. Ancora Cove. Good place to be alone."

Much relieved that I didn't seem to be in deep water --- no pun intended --- I said, "Well, I wasn't totally alone. There was a sea shephard down here. Eran, he said."

"I don't know him," she said, pulling my hair from its braid. "Is he one of the younger ones?"

"I don't have a basis for comparison, but he's about my age," I said. "I think."

"Well, we can ask Pearl and Ryne about him later."

"Why do they call them shephards? I thought those were for sheep. Ow," I added pointedly. She held up a strand of my hair. A glance in the mirror proved it to be one big rat's nest.

"If you insist on running off without warning anyone, you're likely to get too much salt in your hair. The wind down there wreaks havoc, anyway. And they're not shepherds, they're shephards. Spelled differently; shephard is a Merlan word that means… what's the closest English equivalent? Well, there isn't one. That's why we call them shephards instead of mage or translator or guide or… well, I suppose they're the Merlan version of the old Egyptian priests. We rely on them very heavily." She pulled the brush through my hair. "There. Got it. What are you wearing for dinner?"

"I'm sure I care."

"Fine, then, I'll pick something."

She came back a moment later with a gorgeous gown of deep merlot. I could have hugged her --- there wasn't a thing on it that had to do with the ocean. In short order we were headed downstairs.

"Oh, Marina, one thing," she said, pausing outside the door. "Tell someone where you're going next time. I'll tell them that you asked me this once, but you'd do well to remember that neither being royalty nor being almost eighteen will spare you from house arrest."

"Right," I said, then added, "Thanks."